#the way to make it work is to add a touch of old west evil oil baron and talk like an insane person

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

My man Eugene makin history as the first redditor to actually pull off the fedora/ponytail look

#I think he cracked the code #the way to make it work is to add a touch of old west evil oil baron and talk like an insane person #I need to just doodle like this more #not worrying so much about it looking good #twd #the walking dead #eugene porter

[lailoken]

‘The Tools of Cunning’

-

“The Knife

A blade used by the Pellar is sharp and it will cut, for that is the nature of the tool. It is usually single edged with a hilt of bone, horn or wood, and is traditionally crafted by the witch's own hand as far as their skills will allow, or received as a gift. The Pellar's knife is used for tasks both practical and magical, it can be used to cut and carve new wooden tools, to dig holes and even to open a tin of paint. If you make good practical use of your knife in the mundane world, your faith in its ability to aid you in magical matters will be all the greater. The knife or collel of a Cornish witch is used to send magic over long distances, for weather magic, to conjure and bless the ritual fire or simply the candle's flame. It is used to conjure the red serpent; the 'fire in the land', and to awaken the Cunning flame within. It can subdue troublesome spirits and exorcise, but it is not used to conjure the working circle.

The Cup

Materials that have had life are most favoured to fashion the cups used by Cunning folk, the majority of cups I know of are made from horn. They are used in the Troyl rite for the ritual sharing of drink and food that is so vital to maintain the bonds berween witch, Bucca, the ancestors and the serpent.

The Bowl

This is used also in the Troyl rite to hold the sacramental food, and to leave food offerings overnight to the spirits, traditionally at the back door of the cottage or at the hearth - where the offering may also be made to the witch's familiar spirits and other serving spirits. Newly prepared magical substances or charms are also left in the bowl on the hearth overnight, thus allowing the settling in of the prevalent planetary or lunar virtues for which their making was timed to coincide, along with other raised powers and intent. The bowl is often made from wood, clay or horn. A good bowl or basin of copper is also sought after and kept by most Cornish witches. It has many uses and is most often employed in workings of healing, seeing' and of course love; copper being the metal sacred to Venus.

The Cauldron

Keep a good old cauldron; it is a useful tool for both magic and ritual use. Older ones are best for they are full of character, and usually a better quality casting. I must admit that of all my tools my dear big old cauldron, Old Bet', is perhaps my favourite. Along with a large cauldron, Cornish practitioners have also traditionally kept a small portable' example, handy when the Pellar is making visits to their clients. A cauldron has its most obvious use as the cooking vessel for magical ointments, or the food for a ritual feast, hung over the hood fire'. In ritual or magic, it is a symbolic portal of the Otherworld and a vessel of change; a womb of generation or a tomb of consumption, depending on intent and the phase of the moon, Herbs and magical substances can be cast into a caukdron with smoukdering embers, or a small fire kindled within, and the required virtues stirred up with the Pellar's staff, conjuring that which is required into manifestation within the rising smoke issuing forth from the vessel's depths. Visions and spirits can be conjured in this way, to be born forth from the Otherworld during generative workings of the waxing and full moon. Indoors, during workings at the hearth, a candle may burn within the cauldron, with herbs smouldering on charcoal and other symbolic items arranged also within. Above this are conjurations made with repetitive stirring gestures and muttered chants. During the waning or dark of the moon, those things that are required to be gone can be placed within the cauldron fire, in the form of symbolie items, images, knotted cords or pertinent substances, as the witch stirs or moves quietly about it in a sinistral circle, willing the undesired thing to be gone. In seasonal rites things may be born symbolically forth from the cauldron or sacrificed within, and it may become a vessel for sacred fires of the year.

Sweeping Tools

Sweeping magic was, and is, much used by Coenish practitioners. The most famous sweeping tool, the winch's broom, is symbolic of travel berween the worids, and passage from one phase into another. In ritual, it may sweep the working circle, not only as a tool of esorcism sweeping away influences that might impede or interfere with the work, but as a symbolic gesture to establish that exchange between the worlds is about to take place there. The beoom is used in magic so sweep bad influences out of the house, and fortunate or lucky influences in at certain times of the year. In curse magic, ill-innent and bad or unlucky influences can be swept via the beoom into the doorway of an enemy or wrongdoer. Feather sweepers are traditional West Country working tools, most often fashioned from long goose feathers bound with wax, or goose fat and string, to form a handie. Sometimes a left hand and right hand sweeper will be kepe the left hand one to sweep harmful or unlucky influences away and the right hand one to sweep in fortunane or lucky influences, others have kept a single sweeper for both actions, switching hands acconding to intent. The sweeping gestures may be made over a candle, charm, or symbolic item, or to sweep virtues and influences in, or out of a place such as a client's home. Magical sweeping gestures might also be made over a person or an animal. In this way, sweepers may also be employed within healing work; to sweep away the ailment from the affected part of the body with the left hand, and then to sweep in the healing influence with the right. The witch's whisk is a West Country sweeping tool parely used to exonrcise evil spiries and negative influences from a place. It is made by binding thirteen dried and thorny blackberry twigs together, using the string binding to form a handle. The ends of the twigs are set alight in a blessed fire, and the smoking whisk is waved and danced around the place with vigoeous gestures to ward off all evil and harmful influences. Conversely, a similarly bound bundie of rwigs, such as Pine, may be employed in a similar fashion. In this case however, the West Country witch is drawing helpful spirits to the working place, attracted by the pleasingly scented wood smoke.

Drums

Various kinds of drum may be kept by West Country witches, for they are useful within the circle for drumming up sproul and the presence of helpful spirits. They may also be emploved to drive awan evil spirits and negative influences. Cecil Williamson gives two interesting recommendations for West Country witch drumsticks - ones made of glass, the handles of which must have unfinished ends, being useful for banishing harmful influences, calling upon the aid of helpful spirits and for drumming up changes in the weather. Drumsticks formed from human arm bones however are recommended to drum up the presence of any required spirit.

Wind Roarers

Another noise-making ritual tool wind roarens, or "bullroarers have been employed within tradicional magical ritual and spiritual ceremony in many cultures and in many places across the globe, including here in the West Country They must be specially formed from hand wood, and spun above the witch's head in the air, they produce strange and otherworldly throbbing, moaning sounds. These are employed by the West Country witch to atract helpful spirits and to raise spirit forces at the creation of an outdoor working space, and to aid the achievement of trance states These may more usually be employed to begin simple, solitary workings, although I have heard three wind roarers used sogether during a working gathering of wise- women here in Cornwall, the sound was quite remarkable and the Hidden Company' left no doube that they had drawn close to see what was going on! Stones would also be carried as protective amulets and provide warning of the presence of poison by sweating. Devil’s Finger also known as Thunder Bolts are the belemnite fossil. They have been used in Cormwal by Cunning folk who also named them Sea Stones o make predictions by casting one or more and reading the directions in which they point. Waner in which Devil’s Fingers had been soaked for some time is seen in eradition to have curative powers against worms in hones as wellas rheumatism and eye complaints. They are also used by the Cunning to add potency to workings, sometimes being incorporated into charms or set into the end of curative wands. Tongue Stones are the fossils of sharks' teeth which, to the ancients, appeared to be the petrified tongues of serpents. Kept in the home they would ward off misfortune and prevent snakes from entering. Tongue stones are also worn as protective charms against evil and to protect the wearer from snake bites. Immersed in red wine they would provide a cure from venoms and poisons. Toad Stones were believed by our ancestors to grow inside the heads of toads. Most known examples of Toad Stones have been found to be the fossilised teeth of the extinct fish Lepidotes. Toad stones were most often set into rings to provide protection and to aid healing rites. Stings and bites could be cured by the Charmer's Toad Stone ring being touched to the affected area and worked against all venoms and poisons. The Toad Stone ring will warn the wearer of poison by becoming warm in its presence. Necklaces West Country witches, male and female, will often wear a necklace or pendant of magical virtue. Such things as hag stones and bird's feet are used. Strung beads of serpentine, quartz and obsidian represent the serpent and the generative and introspective virtues. A particularly potent and traditional West Country witch necklace consists of strung snake vertebrae, sometimes with the inclusion of glass beads, conferring upon the wearer serpentine powers and the ability to work with the "spirit force' of the land.

To Hood the Tools

The ways to empower the tools and to charge them with life and virtue are many and are to be determined by the nature of the tool itself, it is also the case that each practitioner may have their own ways. Following the exorcism of the item, with the aid of purging and cleansing substances, it will be charged with the powers and virtues pertinent to its nature and use. They may also be anointed with Witch Oil, and passed through the smoke of a pertinent suffumigation before being bound with the practitioner's working cord, to seal in the virtue, and left over night on the hearth. There are also such traditional actions as the anointing of tools with three crosses of spittle, the breathing of life into tools and even taking them into the bed for three consecutive nights. Tools are also often buried beneath the ground at known places of power for varying periods to be infused with chthonic force, whilst tools for working with the dead are often charged by the virtues of the North Road and coated with "Spirit of Myrrh'.

The Cunning Altar

The altar and focus of operations within the rites and workings of the Pellar, either at the hearth or outside, traditionally includes four basic things which are the staff, stone, flame and bone. For the staff, the Pellar's traditional working stick is of course most often employed, becoming a bridge/vehicle' to join and give access to the Ways', and a representation of Bucca. Pitch forks or hay forks are occasionally used instead. Within Ros An Bucca, we are fortunate to have a six tined threshing fork, which we employ as the altar within our six main seasonal ‘Furry’ rites. The stone is the foundation stone or hearth stone around which the cultus of the Craft operates. In some traditional groups this is a whetstone that keeps the blade of Cunning ever sharp, but for the solitary witch any of the working stones may be used. Quartz is a good choice for it attracts and enhances the serpentine flow and the breath, whereas obsidian would be more fitting specifically to the new moon. The flame is the flame of Cunning, the light betwixt the horns and the light on the heath that illumines the path of the Cunning Way. It may be a lantern or simply a candle. During indoor rites and workings, where a full 'hood-fire' is not possible, a ‘hood-lamp' may instead be employed upon the altar. Known examples are formed from horseshoes fixed to a wooden base, with a candle fixed between the upward pointing arms of the shoe, or a forked section of tree branch fixed also to a wooden base, with the candle stuck between the forks. This bewitched lamp is both a devotional object, being a potent visual representation of the Horned One and the light betwixt the horns, and a practical item for magic. Just as the hood-fire may be employed magically, so may the hood lamp assist workings to attract that which is desired and banish that which is not, often by the aid of pertinently coloured glass headed pins once the candle is identified with the object of the working. The bone is the representation of the Old Ones, the gods, spirits and ancestors of the Craft and the 'First One' of the Cunning Way. In grand rites this may be an actual human skull, although other smaller human bones are more usefully portable and thus more often used. Animal bones and carved skulls have also been employed for this. Alongside human bones, I also sometimes make use of a pre-historic, yet still sharp, flint cutting tool as a potent link to the ancestors. Some will keep about their person a stone, bone and candle within a handkerchief that along with their stick/ staff, a small flask of drink and a little food, may form a good and proper altar when out and about in the land. The Pellar's blade is also usually carried which doubles as a handy carving tool.”

—

Traditional Witchcraft:

A Cornish Book of Ways

by Gemma Gary

#magic #witchcraft #traditional withcraft #cunning Craft #cunning #Gemma Gary #a cornish book of ways #ritual instruments

[arcticdementor]

The hilarious headline in the Daily Beast yesterday read like a cross of Clickhole and Izvestia circa 1937: “Is Glenn Greenwald the New Master of Right-Wing Media? FROM HIS MOUTH TO FOX’S EARS?”

The story, fed to poor Beast media writer Lloyd Grove by certain unnamed embittered personages at the Intercept, is that their former star writer Greenwald appears on, and helps provide content for — gasp! — right-wing media! It’s nearly the exclusive point of the article. Greenwald goes on TV with… those people! The Beast’s furious journalisming includes a “spot check” of the number of Fox items inspired by Greenwald articles (“dozens”!) and multiple passages comparing Greenwald to Donald Trump, the ultimate insult in #Resistance world. This one made me laugh out loud:

In a self-perpetuating feedback loop that runs from Twitter to Fox News and back again, Greenwald has managed, like Trump before him, to orchestrate his very own news cycles.

This, folks, is from the Daily Beast, a publication that has spent much of the last five years huffing horseshit into headlines, from Bountygate to Bernie’s Mittens to classics like SNL: Alec Baldwin's Trump Admits 'I Don't Care About America'. The best example was its “investigation” revealing that three of Tulsi Gabbard’s 75,000 individual donors — the late Princeton professor Stephen Cohen, peace activist Sharon Tennison, and a person called “Goofy Grapes” who may or may not have worked for Russia Today host Lee Camp — were, in their estimation, Putin “apologists.”

…

For years now, this has been the go-to conversation-ender for prestige media pundits and Twitter trolls alike, directed at any progressive critic of the political mainstream: you’re a Republican! A MAGA-sympathizer! Or (lately), an “insurrectionist”! The Beast in its Greenwald piece used the most common of the Twitter epithets: “Trump-defender.” Treachery and secret devotion to right-wing politics are also the default explanation for the growing list of progressives making their way onto Fox of late, from Greenwald to Kyle Kulinski to Aaron Mate to Jimmy Dore to Cornel West.

The truth is, Trump conservatives and ACLU-raised liberals like myself, Greenwald, and millions of others do have real common cause, against an epistemic revolution taking hold in America’s political and media elite. The traditional liberal approach to the search for truth, which stresses skepticism and free-flowing debate, is giving way to a reactionary movement that Plato himself would have loved, one that believes knowledge is too dangerous for the rabble and must be tightly regulated by a priesthood of “experts.” It’s anti-democratic, un-American, and naturally unites the residents of even the most extreme opposite ends of our national political spectrum.

…

Follow the logic. Isikoff, who himself denounced the Steele dossier, and said in the exchange he essentially agreed with Meier’s conclusions, went on to wonder aloud how right a thing could be, if it’s being embraced by The Federalist and Tucker Carlson. Never mind the more salient point, which is that Meier was “ignored by other media” because that’s how #Resistance media deals with unpleasant truths: it blacks them out, forcing reporters to spread the news on channels like Fox, which in turn triggers instant accusations of unreliability and collaborationism.

It’s a Catch-22. Isikoff’s implication is a journalist can’t make an impact if the only outlet picking up his or her work is The Federalist, but “reputable” outlets won’t touch news (and sometimes will even call for its suppression) if it questions prevailing notions of Conventional Wisdom.

These tactics have worked traditionally because for people like Meier, or myself, or even Greenwald, who grew up in the blue-leaning media ecosystem, there’s nothing more ominous professionally than being accused of aiding the cause of Trump or the right-wing. It not only implies intellectual unseriousness, but racism, sexism, reactionary meanness, greed, simple wrongness, and a long list of other hideous/evil characteristics that could render a person unemployable in the regular press. The label of “Trump-defender” isn’t easily removed, so most media people will go far out of their way to avoid even accidentally incurring it.

…

The consistent pattern with the Trump-era press, which also happens to be the subject of so many of those Greenwald stories the Beast and the Intercept employees are complaining about, is that information that is true but doesn’t cut the right way politically is now routinely either non-reported or actively misreported.

Whether it’s Hunter Biden’s laptop or the Brian Sicknick affair or infamous fictions like the “find the fraud” story, the public increasingly now isn’t getting the right information from the bulk of the commercial press corps. That doesn’t just hurt Trump and conservatives, it misinforms the whole public. As Thomas Frank just pointed out in The Guardian, the brand of politicized reporting that informed the lab-leak fiasco risks obliterating the public’s faith in a whole range of institutions, a disaster that would not be borne by conservatives alone.

But this is only a minor point, compared to the more immediate reason the constant accusations of treachery and Trumpism aimed at dissenters should be ignored.

From the embrace of oligarchical censorship to the aggressive hawking of “noble lies” like Russiagate to the constant humbugging of Enlightenment values like due process to the nonstop scolding of peasants unschooled in the latest academic jargon, the political style of the modern Democratic mainstream isn’t just elitist and authoritarian, it’s almost laughably off-putting. In one moment it’s cheering for a Domestic War on Terror and in the next, declaring war on a Jeopardy contestant flashing the “A-OK” sign. It’s Dick Cheney meets Robin DiAngelo, maybe the most loathsome conceivable admixture. Who could be surprised a politically diverse group finds it obnoxious?

During the Trump years conventional wisdom didn’t just take aim at Trumpism. The Beltway smart set used the election of Trump to make profound arguments against traditional tenets of democracy, as well as “populism,” (which increasingly became synonymous with “the unsanctioned exercise of political power by the unqualified”), and various liberal traditions undergirding the American experiment. Endless permutations of the same argument were made over and over. Any country in which a Trump could be elected had a “too much democracy” problem, the “marketplace of ideas” must be a flawed model if it leads to people choosing Trump, the “presumption of innocence” was never meant to apply to the likes of Trump, and so on.

…

By last summer, after the patriotic mania of Russiagate receded, the newest moral panic that the kente-cloth-clad Schumers and Pelosis were suddenly selling, in solidarity with famed progressive change agents like Bank of America, PayPal, Apple, ComCast, and Alphabet, was that any nation capable of electing Trump must always have been a historically unredeemable white supremacist construct, the America of the 1619 Project. The original propaganda line was that “half” of Trump supporters were deplorable racists, then it was all of them, and then, four years in, the whole country and all its traditions were deemed deplorable.

Now, when the statues of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt came down, there was a new target, separate and apart from Trump. The whole history of American liberalism was indicted as well, denounced as an ineffectual trick of the oppressor, accomplishing nothing but giving legitimacy to racial despotism.

The American liberalism I knew growing up was inclusive, humble, and democratic. It valued the free exchange of ideas among other things because a central part of the liberal’s identity was skepticism and doubt, most of all about your own correctitude. Truth was not a fixed thing that someone owned, it was at best a fleeting consensus, and in our country everyone, down to the last kook, at least theoretically got a say. We celebrated the fact that in criminal courts, we literally voted to decide the truth of things.

This new elitist politics of the #Resistance era (I won’t ennoble it by calling it liberalism) has an opposite view. Truth, they believe, is properly guarded by “experts” and “authorities” or (as Jon Karl put it) “serious people,” who alone can be trusted to decide such matters as whether or not the Hunter Biden laptop story can be shown to the public. A huge part of the frustration that the general public feels is this sense of being dictated to by an inaccessible priesthood, whether on censorship matters or on the seemingly daily instructions in the ear-smashing new vernacular of the revealed religion, from “Latinx” to “birthing persons.”

In the tone of these discussions is a constant subtext that it’s not necessary to ask the opinions of ordinary people on certain matters. As Plato put it, philosophy is “not for the multitude.” The plebes don’t get a say on speech, their views don’t need to be represented in news coverage, and as for their political choices, they’re still free to vote — provided their favorite politicians are removed from the Internet, their conspiratorial discussions are banned (ours are okay), and they’re preferably all placed under the benevolent mass surveillance of “experts” and “professionals.”

Add the total absence of a sense of humor and the inability of “moral clarity” politics to co-exist with any form of disagreement, and there’s a reason why traditional liberals are suddenly finding it easier to talk with old conservative rivals on Fox than the new authoritarian Snob-Lords at CNN, MSNBC, the Daily Beast or The Intercept. For all their other flaws, Fox types don’t fall to pieces and write group letters about their intolerable suffering and “trauma” if forced to share a room with someone with different political views. They’re also not terrified to speak their minds, which used to be a virtue of the American left (no more).

From the moment Donald Trump was elected, popular media began denouncing a broad cast of characters deemed responsible. Nativists, misogynists and racists were first in line, but from there they started adding new classes of offender: Greens, Bernie Bros, “both-sidesers,” Russia-denialists, Intellectual dark-webbers, class-not-racers, anti-New-Normalers, the “Substackerati,” and countless others, casting every new group out with the moronic admonition that they’re all really servants of the “far right” and “grifters” (all income earned in service of non-#Resistance politics is “grifting”). By now conventional wisdom has denounced everyone but its own little slice of aristocratic purity as the “far right.”

#matt taibbi #substack #glenn greenwald #journalism in action

[skullrock]

the partners, chapter four - Steve x Reader

chapter four: heaven knows I'm miserable now

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve tip toe around your feelings; You find evidence that might link Chief to the death.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, pining

word count: 4k (oof!)

a/n: here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. would love to give the biggest possible shout out to @comedy-witch who helped me go through this entire plot line and find the essence of the story!!! em is the best and im love her. I hope you folks enjoy this chapter!

------

“And so Tommy was like –“ You make a stupid face. “’Oh, look who it is!’ And Steve was like –“ You make an exaggerated frown. “’Oh, hello!’”

“That’s not what I said,” Steve laughs.

“Um, I think I’d know, I was there,” you respond, then continue. “And so Tommy was like, calling me a slut, and – oh, and Carol touched Steve’s hair – and then Tommy got really close to Steve—”

“And Y/N shoved him away, and I tried to stop her, I did –”

“Yeah, but I was really mad, and then Tommy called Steve a fuck up, and that really made me mad, and so I took the lid off my slushie and I went –“ You mimic pouring the slushie over Steve’s head, and he makes a shocked face. “And then I was like –“ You grab Steve’s arm and twist it behind him, gently enough so it doesn’t hurt him.

“Holy shit,” Mike says, leaning forward.

“You did that to Tommy?!” Lucas says in disbelief.

“Oh, that’s not even the craziest part,” Steve says. “Then she was like, ‘Tommy, if I hear you say Steve’s name one more time, I’ll kill you,’ and then, she was like - “ he turns to you, intending on reenacting when you kissed Tommy’s nose, but decides against it. “And then she kissed his nose!”

“No way!” a few of the kids gasp in unison.

“It’s true, I was there,” you repeat.

“It was so badass,” Steve says. “I thought she was just gonna tell him to tuck his shirt in or something –”

“Steve, when have I ever –”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, and you slap his shoulder.

“And you didn’t get in trouble?” Will asks nervously.

“Not yet, hopefully never,” you respond.

“Tommy’s got a thing against girls standing up to him, he won’t say shit.” Steve assures.

Your watch starts beeping – it’s 10 pm. You have a shift in the morning, while Steve gets the day off.

“I’ve gotta run, guys,” you say, grabbing your jacket.

“Don’t beat someone up while you’re at it,” Max jokes, and you roll your eyes.

While talking to everyone, you didn’t notice Robin standing in the corner, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. Her eyes narrow even more as Steve grabs your arm when you try to go, telling you to be careful. She watches as your face flushes and your hand tucks a stand of hair behind your ear.

You walk out to your car, and Robin bounds up behind you. “Y/N!”

“Oh, hey,” you say, as if it’s the first time you saw her all night. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” she asks, scoffing. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” you ask, laughing nervously.

“Are you kidding? Y/N, when have you ever been physical with someone for someone else?”

You shrug. “I’m emotional.”

Robin laughs. “Well, sure, but you’ve never been outright violent.” She narrows her eyes again. “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

She laughs in disbelief. “You’ve got it bad for Harrington!”

“No, I don’t!” you defend, but your face turns red and your eyes shift over to the right. “We’re just friends.”

Robin sighs. She reaches out for you and pulls you into an embrace, which you return happily. She pulls back, placing her hands firmly on your shoulders. “You need to be careful with him.”

You furrow your brows and open your mouth to question it, but she cuts you off.

“Steve has completely shut down after last year,” she explains. “And I’m very happy he’s letting you in, he must think you’re really special to have done that…. But he’s definitely not ready for any type of relationship. I’m worried you’re going to fall for him, and not be able to have him. You both deserve to be happy – I don’t want this to end badly for you guys.”

“Robin,” you say, irritated. “I’m not catching feelings.”

She rolls her eyes at first, but her expression softens. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “Robin, I promise.”

She bites her lip and starts to smile. “You would be cute together, though.”

You blush, smiling, but quickly shake your head. “I’m not into him, Robin. I promise.”

Robin clicks her tongue. “If you do get into him, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

=====

The next time you patrol with Steve, you are acutely aware of just how much Robin was right.

Every time Steve would smile, you’d notice how cutely his nose would crinkle. You got goosebumps when he would laugh, and you found yourself laughing at almost everything he said. One time, his forehead creased, and you reached out to smooth it, stopping yourself just in time.

Keep it together, idiot, you tell yourself, diverting your hand to act like you’re rubbing a crumb off of Steve’s shirt.

“What do you think about the Chief?” Steve asks suddenly, making your brows furrow.

“I mean, we’ve agreed he’s pretty odd,” you say. “I don’t have much of an opinion beyond that. Like, he taught me everything I know – how to shoot, how to detain… how to bully guys from high school.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, and you laugh. “What’s your latest problem with him?”

He continues to bite his cheek, and you wait for an answer. Finally, he talks. “Before you got to the scene last week, it was just me and Chief…. Well, those weird government guys were there, too. And… I don’t know. Chief was being really condescending, and he kept deflecting me when I said I thought it was something worse than a suicide. He seems pretty hell-bent on not letting either of us around this investigation, too. I don’t think that’s what we signed up for, do you?”

You shake your head. “I think it’s weird, too. They won’t even let us look at the photographs.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right. Something really doesn’t seem right with this. And don’t you think it’s weird that he was first on the scene? It’s usually the lower level people who respond first.”

“Damn,” you say, leaning back. “You’re right.”

“I know,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Something’s up.”

At that moment, a car goes down the road. It wouldn’t be odd, except it was irrefutably Chief’s yellow ’67 Corvette. Your brows furrow and you lean forward. Chief never comes to this side of town – he lives on the outskirts on the very opposite side. You don’t even have to tell Steve your thoughts; he’s right there with you. He quickly puts the car in drive and begins to follow him from a distance.

“We really keep having these coincidences, huh?” you ask. “First Tommy, now Chief.”

“I think he’s heading towards the Source,” Steve breathes.

“The source?” you ask.

“I mean – the crime scene,” he corrects quickly, licking his lips. “You know – the source of the crime.”

That statement doesn’t sit right with you, but you don’t question it.

You follow Chief all the way to the west side of town, on the very outskirts. You watch as he pulls down a side road, and Steve takes another one, so it doesn’t look too suspicious. Your anxiety continues to grow, as does Steve’s, and you notice his jaw clenched tightly.

“Steve, you’re going to hurt yourself,” you say.

“Sorry,” he says, absentmindedly, and unclenches his jaw only slightly.

Steve’s confused. He thought Chief was going to Rimborn, but now they’re on the other side of town. Nothing makes sense, but he thinks something is about to happen. He’s not going to give up now.

A bright building illuminates the end of the road, surrounded by thick woods. A neon sign reading Bartini hangs off of it. Chief’s car pulls up to the front, and Steve continues down the road a ways before pulling over. You both whip around, Steve grabbing a pair of binoculars off the floor.

“Bartini?” you ask. “That’s lame.”

Steve shushes you, and you scoff. “Do you think you can hear them from he—”

“Shh!”

You both watch as Chief gets out of his car. He goes into the bar through a side entrance instead of the front. The side door is guarded by two tall people – Steve thinks they look an awful lot like the government men from the other night. He watches as Chief flashes something – it’s too dark to tell what – and Chief enters the building.

“What’s happening?” you whisper.

“He went inside,” Steve whispers back.

“Riveting,” you reply.

Steve turns back around in his seating, letting out a sigh. He brings the binoculars to his lap. You see that same thoughtfulness from earlier. You again wait for him to speak.

“I know it sounds weird. I know it does. But something bad is happening. I want to get to the bottom of this. I wish I could explain this to you, but I can’t. And I really need you to believe me on this.” There’s a desperation in his voice that you haven’t yet heard. It makes your heart hurt.

“I trust you,” you say, despite being confused as all hell internally.

And you mean it. You would trust him with your life. Even though his vagueness and attitude are a bit annoying and frustrating, you believe his judgement. You can see in his eyes that he’s not messing around.

“You’re my partner, remember?” you add. “I’m in this with you. I believe you.”

Steve sighs, looking at you gratefully. “We’ve got some sleuthing to do.”

=====

The next few days at the station are spent sneaking around. You both would wait until Chief went to lunch or to a meeting before raiding the office, trying to find anything to work with. You both knew most of the evidence for the case was in the evidence room – ironically, made from Hop’s old office, despite your protests – and that room was under strict lock and key.

While you tried to find things from the investigation, Steve researched building permits for the town at Town Hall. He finds the one for Starcourt Mall and sets it aside. He feels disgust churn in his stomach as he reads Mayor Kline’s signature, signing off on making a capitalist nightmare that nearly killed him and his friends a year ago. A pang of guilt runs through him. He shouldn’t have added you to this mess. If his hunch is right, you could be in serious danger. But he swallows the feeling, knowing he needs your support and help more than anything right now.

Not long after finding the records for Starcourt, he finds the records for Bartini. Steve’s heart races as he reads – Bartini was proposed the same day as Starcourt, built by the same company, and also signed off by Mayor Kline. Steve shakes his head, mumbling a “you son of a bitch,” and jumps up from his seat with the records in hand. He wants to believe that the government wasn’t that stupid, that they had realized this coincidence and checked it out. But the other part of him remembers the atrocities of the lab and thinks maybe it wasn’t a mistake at all.

At the same time, you find scans of the photographs from the crime scene. They’re shoved haphazardly into an empty drawer in the main office, and you truly can’t believe your luck. You scan through them carefully for any clues, and you strike gold. In a photograph of the back of the body, you notice a napkin sticking out from the man’s pocket. You grab a magnifying glass and look further – an illustration of a martini glass with an olive inside is printed on it in red ink. The emblem looks familiar, and you think for a moment before realizing it’s the same emblem that was on the Bartini sign.

You jump up and at the same moment, Steve walks in. He looks equally ecstatic and like he’s seen a ghost. He holds up the files with a small smile and settles at his desk. You run over and stand beside his chair as he pulls them out.

“This one is for Starcourt,” he says, placing it down. You scan it over and nod at him.

“And this one is for Bartini.” He places them side by side, and while you notice the similarities, you’re still confused.

“If Starcourt just caught on fire, then why does it matter if they are related?” you ask. “I mean, I know Kline was a crook, but what’s the connection?”

Steve curses under his breath. He forgot you didn’t know the whole story. He briefly considers telling you at least some parts but decides against it. You’d already agreed that you would take the information you were given, and you can’t break that agreement now.

“Just trust me on this,” he says slowly. “I think there’s a connection here.”

“I mean, alright,” you say, also slow. “I do have something that may reinforce your theory.”

You show him the photograph and explain the emblem on the napkin. Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs you, spinning you around. Your heart leaps and races as you laugh. He puts you down, beaming. He still holds on to your arms though, and his warm palms are all you can think about at the current moment.

For a fleeting moment, Steve’s stomach flips, thinking of how beautiful you look when you’re happy. But he pushes those thoughts to the side with an anxious pang in his gut.

“This is it!” he cheers. “This proves it. The bar is involved.”

“Bet you’re happy you let me help, huh?” you ask.

“You’re wonderful,” he says. “I knew I could count on you.”

You feel yourself blush, so you quickly pull away, walking towards your desk. “Do you think the napkin would be in the evidence room?” you ask, looking anywhere but at him.

“Most likely,” he says. “And I know just the way to get in.”

=====

Steve’s idea was admittedly pretty stupid, and a little rude, too.

His plan was simple – flirt with Veronica, who has the key, get her to go in to find the napkin, and bring it to him.

“Veronica’s not an idiot,” you say. Something about the plan makes you feel sick, but you push it down - again. “She’s not going to just waltz in and steal evidence for you.”

“You underestimate my charm,” he says. He’s looking into a mirror in the annex and fixing his hair.

“We don’t need the napkin,” you say.

“Oh, but we do,” he replies. “Chief went to that bar last night, remember?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t have a memory problem like you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Chief. The bar. Starcourt. Body. Chief goes into a private entrance at the bar – that implies that he is some sort of VIP, right? The bar’s emblem is on the dead person’s body. The bar was made at the same time as Starcourt. Chief probably has something to do with the bar, Starcourt, and the body. He doesn’t want to be caught, so he takes evidence and destroys it. We need to get that napkin before he does.”

The feeling of dread and uncertainty permanently attaches itself to your stomach, and you feel nauseous. “What if you’re wrong? What if Chief isn’t involved?”

He turns around from the mirror to look at you. He did fix his hair up pretty nicely – the handsomeness he exudes sidetracks you for a brief moment.

“Don’t you think he is involved?” he asks.

“I mean, I guess, but Steve, you’re not giving me a lot to work with here,” you say, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “And if we get caught, we’re done for.”

“We’ve been living on the edge for a while now, Y/N.”

“Patrolling on our own is completely different from breaking into the evidence room and stealing evidence.”

Steve sighs. He walks over to you, taking you in his arms again. “Don’t you trust me?”

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. It feels good to be in his arms. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Steve.”

“Do you think so?” he says cheekily, flashing a smile. It’s enough to make your knees weak.

Still, you force yourself out of his grip. “I’m sure Veronica will think so.”

You both go out to the reception desk, meeting with Veronica. Veronica was usually a pretty quiet gal, but when she saw Steve, she could not stop talking. He flashes her the same smile he just flashed you, and your heart equally leaps and sinks.

“Veronica,” he purrs. “What’s been up, doll?” Steve admittedly does not really remember how to flirt with women, but is trying to channel his high school self as best as he can right now.

You scrunch your nose in disgust – doll? – but quickly go back to being pokerfaced.

“Ugh, it’s been so busy today, oh my god. First Chief has a ton of meetings, then Callahan isn’t here, so I have no one to talk to, and did you see what happened on 8th and Oak this morning? What a wreck, probably going to take a while to –”

“Veronica,” Steve interrupts sweetly. “Can I ask you a favor?”

She smiles brightly. “What can I do for you?”

Steve pauses – he didn’t think this far ahead. He looks back at you with his mouth slightly open, then back at Veronica, smiling cockily again. “Any chance you could grab something from the evidence room for me?”

Now you know why this display is sickening to you. Steve’s treating her like a pawn to help him excel in his mission, and it kind of feels like he’s doing the same to you. You remember what Robin said – how he isn’t going to catch feelings – and the impact of those words settle in your stomach like a rock. You are no different from Veronica; just a girl helplessly infatuated with a boy who will never reciprocate, wanting to help him as much as you could in the hopes that maybe he would like you back. These thoughts pull you from the situation unraveling, and you don’t even notice Veronica skipping off.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly, bumping into you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” you say after a pause.

“I got her to go in,” he says.

You force a tight-lipped smile, and his falters. “What’s wrong?”

You bite your tongue, afraid to speak. Is it even worth it to bring it up? Would it give your feelings away? But you decide to do it anyway, because ragging on each other is kind of your brand.

“Just seems kind of mean,” you say slowly.

“What does?”

“Using Veronica to get shit done for you.”

His brows furrow and he shakes his head slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“Steve, she’s like, in love with you,” you say nervously, “and you’re using her to break into the evidence room. She could get fired for that, man.”

Realization dawns on Steve’s face, and he looks disappointed with himself. His epiphany calms you, because at least he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

Either that, or he’s just a really good actor.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” he whispers, eyes downcast.

“Yeah,” you say. “Maybe you should reexamine your relationships with wo—”

“Stevie,” Vanessa calls as she walks out of the evidence room.

Steve spins around on his heals, dashing smile plastered on his face again. “Yes, sweetheart?”

It infuriates you that he goes back into this bullshit façade, but you decide to question him on it when you aren’t in front of Veronica.

“No napkins are in there,” she says.

Steve furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“No napkins,” she repeats. “Nothing that even looks like a napkin, actually.”

Steve stills and your mouth falls open. Someone did tamper with the evidence.

“Oh, well, thanks, Roni!” he says quickly, and pulls you back to the annex, leaving a confused but happy Veronica in your wake.

He shuts and locks the door and starts to pace.

“Holy shit,” you say, stunned.

“We’ve got to go in there,” he says, voice wavering.

“Into the evidence room?”

“No, no, the bar,” he says. He runs his hand through his hair – a nervous tick you’d picked up on – and he taps his fingers against his crossed arms. “Chief took the napkin, I know it. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

You swallow, hard. “And what are we supposed to do there?”

“Get to the bottom of this,” he says. “Find out what Chief goes for, see if there is anything up with it. Try to find out what the connection is, who owns it, who runs it.”

“We’re underage,” you point out, and he deflates. You sigh and add, “But I know a guy.”

Steve spins around. “A guy?”

You sigh again and pull out your wallet. You hand an ID over to him – it’s a fake. Steve looks between it, back at you, then back down at it, mouth open. “You have a fake ID?”

“How else was I supposed to drink when I was at school?”

“You just don’t seem like the type.”

“Does it matter?” you snap, snatching it back. “Look, if we are going in, we have to be disguised to the max. I’m talking wigs and an entire wardrobe change. We cannot be found out, because if Chief finds us, underaged in this bar, we are getting kicked into the sun.”

“Or he could get his Russian cronies to kill us,” he mumbles. His eyes widen and he looks like he regrets it immediately.

You know it’s against the rules to push, but you do it anyway, because how the fuck can you be quiet after that? “Russians?”

“I said – I said he would be rushing – rushing to get cronies to kill us.” He laughs sharply. “Uh, damn Y/N, get your hearing checked.”

You narrow your eyes. “If you don’t explain this shit and stop gaslighting me in five seconds, I’m out.”

Steve grabs your hands and pulls you towards him. This is getting ridiculous, you think, as your heart yet again goes crazy over his touch. You look away from him, but he softly says your name, so you look back. You see sincerity in his eyes, and he looks solemn.

“I promise when this is over, I’ll explain everything,” he says. “But I can’t tell you until I know you’re safe.”

“Oh, like you care about me,” you say. You try to smile through it – like it’s a joke - but it’s still a bit painful.

Steve’s brows furrow and his face goes soft. “I’m not trying to use you or Veronica. What I did with Veronica – that was stupid, and you’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. But I really do need your help. I’m not telling you things because they can really hurt you. I should never have let you in on this anyway, but I need you. You keep me going, Y/N. You’re….”

He trails off as he takes your face in. The innocence in your eyes, the rosiness in your cheeks, your widened pupils. How beautiful you are throws him off guard again, and he swallows hard, recovering and pushing past his anxiety and attraction. Being with you is simply not an option, and he feels foolish for even having the fleeting thought.

“You’re my best friend,” he finishes. “I couldn’t do this without you. Honest.”

You stare at his chest for a moment before smiling. “I thought Dustin was your best friend?”

“Oh, I forgot about Dustin. You’re right, he’s my best friend.”

You both laugh and the tension dissipates. You sigh and look back up at him. “Saturday night, we go in.”

Steve steps back and offers you his hand, and you shake on it, but you can’t help to notice how nervous his eyes look.

=====

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[freudensteins-monster]

The Governess and the Liesmith - Chapter Four

FIC SUMMARY: Sigyn finds herself accepting the position of governess to Prince Loki’s children. She quickly endears herself to them, despite her firm hand, but the closeness and trust she worked so hard for is threatened by the return of the children’s notoriously absent father. RATING: T AUTHORS NOTES: This is the last completed chapter I have and I can't possibly say when the next one will be ready (considering it took me four years to get to this point). If you have any thoughts on what you'd like to see (other than Loki at some point :P), things you'd like Sigyn and the children to do etc, feel free to add them in the comments. Who knows, they might inspire me to be to churn out a few new paragraphs ;) Thanks for the love and the continued support xoxox

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sigyn heard the children long before she saw them, the group babbling excitedly to each other as they made their way into the nursery. Queen Frigga followed, smiling to herself as her grandchildren immediately made the most of their free time. For Einmyria and Jörmungandr it meant jumping onto their respective beds with a new book on seiðr brought back from their lessons, for the other children it meant playing with dolls and building blocks and, in Eisa’s case, trying to set them on fire without anyone noticing. A raised eyebrow and a stern look from both Sigyn and Queen Frigga stopped her cold but Sigyn knew perfectly well which of the older women her new charge was showing deference to.

“The uniform fits well, I take it,” Queen Frigga noted happily as she gave Sigyn a once over.

“Yes, it fits perfectly, your majesty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, though I still think I should be thanking you,” she said, her eyes moving over her assembled grandchildren. “It’s no easy task I have assigned you.”

“Perhaps not,” Sigyn conceded. “But I will endeavour to take care of them to the best of my abilities. Whether they like it or not,” she added under her breath, earning an unladylike snort of laughter from her queen.

“I wish you the best of luck,” the queen said before stepping forward to say goodnight to the children. “Please be good for Sigyn,” she added sternly before taking her leave.

Left alone with her new charges, Sigyn did her best to ignore her nerves as she wandered about the room attempting to engage the children in casual conversation hoping to learn more about them. Eisa, Hela, and Fenrir were building a tower out of blocks - a grand castle in their minds, and were playing out mock battles and daring rescues with their toys. Eisa always played the queen (or the enchantress, or the poor scullery maid who was really a princess), Fenrir always played the brave hero (who always had a loyal warwolf at his side), and Hela always played the evil monster who was secretly good (or cursed, or just scared of the hero). She asked Jörmungandr and Einmyria about the books they were reading and the things they learnt with their grandmother, and while Jörmungandr all but ignored her questions claiming she wouldn’t understand, Einmyria became almost as animated as her sister as she recalled the new spell she had learnt and talked at length about the famous witch in her book.

Their conversation had to be tabled when six bells chimed throughout the wing, signaling the arrival of children’s dinner. With slightly less grumbling than there had been at lunch Sigyn managed to get the children to wash up and seated just as the kitchen maids had finished setting the table.

Sigyn thanked the maids as they headed for the door, and after she pointedly cleared her throat at her charges they followed her example. “Thank you!”

The meal was more or less as chaotic as dinner with her own siblings and made Sigyn terribly homesick. If she had known when she had left that morning that she wasn’t going to be returning she would have hugged them all so tightly before she left. With a soft sigh she shook off her feelings of nostalgia and focused on her charges as she made short work of her own meal.

By the time Sigyn had set down her cutlery the children had all but finished too. Fenrir had licked his own plate clean and was now finishing off the meat that Einmyria had pushed to the side of her plate, Eisa had made a paste out of her roasted pumpkin but Sigyn suspected she hadn’t eaten a bite of it, and Hela was grimacing as she bravely tried to finish her green beans.

“All done?” Sigyn asked, putting poor Hela out of her misery. “Then I think it’s bathtime.”

Thirty minutes later five squeaky clean children and one drowned rat of a governess exited the bathroom.

Sigyn instigated quiet time to run out the clock before bedtime. Einmyria and Jörmungandr returned to their books while Eisa and Fenrir huddled on the floor between their two beds with their toys. Hela tugged on Sigyn’s skirts, leading her over to her bed. Sigyn helped the girl up onto her bed and helped her get comfy. Hela patted a space next to her encouraging Sigyn to take a seat next to her. Before Sigyn could ask her what she wanted Hela pulled a well worn book of fairy tales out from under her pillow.

“Would you read me a story?” Hela asked.

Sigyn took the children’s storybook in hand, tentatively opening it to the first page, her eyes stumbling over the title.

“I’m afraid I don’t know my letters very well,” Sigyn confessed quietly, her body tensing as she felt five pairs of eyes staring back at her.

“You can’t read?” Einmyria exclaimed in utter horror, hugging her own book tightly.

“What did you expect?” Jörmungandr snorted. “She’s just a stupid farm girl.”

“I am not stupid,” Sigyn replied coldly. “I know how to shoe a horse, milk a cow, mend clothes, and plow a field. I know when to plant seeds and when to harvest crops. I can hunt game and prepare it for eating. I know how to make bread, cheese, stews, and dozens of other things. Just because I didn’t read about such things in books does not make me stupid.”

Jörmungandr broke eye contact first, burying his nose in his own book. The heavy silence that followed was broken by a curious Fenrir.

"You can really hunt game?"

"Trapping rabbits mostly. Sometimes pheasants.”

"Fenrir caught a rabbit once in wolf form. And ate it raw," Einmyria shook her head in disgust.

"I didn't mean to," Fenrir whined. "It made me sick for a week."

"Well, perhaps next time, once you've caught the rabbit you should turn back into a boy and cook it first."

"You know how to cook rabbit?"

"Of course."

“Can you make biscuits?”

Sigyn had to stifle a laugh. “Of course. I like making ginger snap cookies, but my favourite thing to make is a steamed pudding with homemade raspberry jam.”

“Now I’m hungry again,” Fenrir huffed, burrowing into his blankets.

Sigyn did laugh then but settled down when a small hand touched hers.

“I could read it to you, if you want?” Hela offered nervously, unable to meet Sigyn’s eyes, her fingers picking at the worn edges of the much loved book.

“I would like that very much,” Sigyn replied earnestly, her smile growing wider as Hela moved to give Sigyn space on her bed. “What is the book called?”

“East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” Hela recited slowly, following the words with a small finger as she read them out. She turned the page and pointed to the first sentence. “Do you know what that says?”

“Those words I know,” Sigyn smiled. “Once upon a time.”

Hela nodded in agreement before repeating them and then reading aloud until her eyes grew heavy towards the end of the first chapter. Eight bells chimed and Sigyn marked the page with a ribbon, and Hela was asleep before Sigyn had put the book away. Sigyn tucked her in and then went around the room securing the windows, dimming the lights, tucking the rest of the children in and prying books from more stubborn hands.

“It’s past eight bells, Jörmungandr. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he grumbled petulantly.

“But you will be tomorrow if you don’t go to sleep now,” Sigyn countered, waiting patiently by his bed until he handed over the heavy book with a long title Sigyn wasn’t even going to attempt to read. “Goodnight,” she said as she exited the room earning a few sleepy ‘goodnights’ and one angry huff in return.

Sigyn closed the nursery doors and then moved to the main doors. There was no lock or barring mechanism that she could see so instead she pulled the doors open and stuck her head out.

“Yes, miss?” an older guard stationed outside the door queried.

“Do they not secure the nursery doors at night?”

“No need, miss. It’s the most secure wing of the castle and only guards handpicked by Odin himself are stationed outside the royal bedchambers at night.”

“Only the most loyal and trustworthy, I take it.”

“Naturally, miss.”

“You can call me Sigyn. And your name would be?”

“Amund, Miss Sigyn,” he teased. “Gunnarr and I are on night duty this month,” he added, nodding to the younger, more serious guard stationed across the way.

“Well met,” Sigyn greeted before turning back to Amund. “The children are abed and I will be turning in shortly as well. You are not to permit entry to anyone until morning.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Sigyn.”

“Goodnight,” Sigyn smiled and pulled the doors closed, checking the nursery door one last time before retreating to her own room. She undressed and hung up her uniform to dry, changing into an old nightgown from home. It was soft in a way that only a garment worn every night for a year could be but it still could not compare to the silky softness of the sheets on her new bed. Sigyn rested her head on the plump pillow and was asleep in seconds.

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[thedeaditeslayer]

The Cool Side of My Pillow Interview: A Trip Inside the Mind of Bruce Campbell.

When you mention the name Bruce Campbell, the first thing that readily springs to most people’s minds is the boomstick toting, chainsaw-wielding final guy of the Evil Dead franchise, Ash Williams. However, for some of his fans, he will be forever linked with the Harvard educated, resourceful bounty hunter, Brisco County, Jr. Then, of course, there will be those devotees of Burn Notice that will be quick to let you know that Sam Axe, the ex-Navy Seal with a love of Mojitos and Tommy Bahama shirts is their guy because we all know, “Chuck Finley is forever.” For those of you that have never had the pleasure of watching the inventive spy show, Chuck was Sam’s alias that he would use as a cover on certain operations. The mere fact that Bruce Campbell is a part of three vastly different fandoms says quite a bit about his ability as an actor as well as his likeability quotient.

A headliner on the convention circuit for years, the minute he is announced as a guest, tickets go flying out the door and venues sell out. Campbell understands what the people want and he is more than willing to give it to them which is why most promoters clamor to book him. His Q & A sessions are legendary and audiences love the way he sarcastically banters with them. In addition to being an accomplished actor, director and producer, Bruce is also a New York Times bestselling author with four books under his belt. If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B-Movie Actor, Hail to the Chin: Further Confessions of a B-Movie Actor, Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way and his soon to be released, The Cool Side of My Pillow.

His latest book is a collection of essays or as he would say, “rants.” This venture is unlike any of the previous mentioned titles and perhaps his most personal effort to date. In a sense, you get to take a trip inside Campbell’s mind. He expresses his feelings and opinions on a variety of topics from current events and social media to his code of ethics. I was fortunate enough to chat with Bruce about The Cool Side of My Pillow, and his future projects. After reading his book, you come away with the knowledge of how genuine and thoughtful he is which is refreshing in this day and age.

Diabolique: What I like so much about The Cool Side of My Pillow is your honesty. Your writing style makes the reader feel as if they are having an intimate conversation with you. You don’t hold anything back. There are certain aspects in the book which made me feel a tad uncomfortable because you shared some information that was deeply personal, in my mind. I don’t know if I would have included some of the things that you did.

BC: Oh, sure. You always have to decide where you stop. Where is the line? For me, it depends on the type of book. It depends on the type of subject matter. Every project is different.

Diabolique: Were some of the subjects you tackled cathartic for you?

BC: I don’t normally do that sort of stuff. I’m happy to share if I feel something is useful. In the chapter, “What Are You On?” I’m not ragging on people who have habits. I have habits that was the point. There are very few people that just go through their daily life without jacking themselves up, knocking themselves down, knocking themselves out, you know? So, its kind of amazing. The human condition fascinates me.

Diabolique: “A Little Effort Goes a Long Way” is one of my favorite segments. A tale of hard work, ingenuity and perseverance. Which is key to succeeding in the entertainment industry. Where does your drive come from? Some people can pinpoint it to relatives, a mentor…

BC: I do attribute some of it to the Detroit metro area. A lot of my buddies worked on the line, they worked in the factories, it was a great summer job that paid really good money. In Detroit, it was weird. There weren’t a lot of discussions about hopes and dreams. But I could see things happen incrementally that encouraged us. My grandfather worked for ALCOA Aluminum for over 40 years. Would he want to do that job? Was it his favorite job? He wouldn’t even know; it was his only job. He had that job for his whole adult life. My dad wanted to be a painter. I call him a “go betweener” because he didn’t do exactly what he wanted to do but he didn’t do what he didn’t want to do. He got into advertising because it was sort of creative but it wasn’t creative enough so he got into community theater which was more creative. That filled a very strong niche for him and so he kind of straddled the line and then I came along. He allowed me to pretty much do whatever the hell I wanted to do in whatever industry I wanted. He was the first investor in Evil Dead. So, I benefited from the transition of ONLY having drive. Meaning, you just go to work, it doesn’t matter what the job is. The next generation is, “Well, the job kinda matters.” My generation is, “The job matters a hundred percent,” because it determines what you’ve decided to do with your life. So, I am grateful for having enough drive but grateful for being injected with enough freedom of thought to then do my own thing. Partly the drive is the Midwest because you put a tie on, put your sport coat on and you go to work. Get your briefcase, shine your shoes and off you go.

Diabolique: Do you think it is important if you want to be in the arts to have a benefactor? Not necessarily monetarily but someone who encourages you like your dad?

BC: Well, my mom did sort of amateur writing so she was sympathetic at least to that side of the arts. She liked that creative side. My dad was way more interested in acting. So, I saw him in plays and stuff. I definitely benefitted because I had a sensibility that was similar to my dad. My two older brothers could give a shit about acting. They never touched it. I think my dad saw, “Hey, the young guy likes acting just like me.” That was probably an advantage.

Diabolique: Another thing about that particular section that is fascinating to note is your resourcefulness. The anecdote that you recount about having to come up with a way to deliver newspapers in a horrendous snowstorm and the lengths that you went to just to do your job is inspiring. I feel like that isn’t something that would be done by the younger generation, these days.

BC: We were pre-slackers and again, this isn’t to sound like a crabby, old guy on a hill shouting down about the great old days, at that time there were no other options. Our boss dropped off these papers at the top of a hill. That was as far as his van could go. He dumped the whole thing on me and my brother. We delivered them together (the resolution involved Bruce donning hockey skates and a toboggan). So, we thought okay. There was no option of saying, “Dude, I can’t do it. They’re just not going to get their papers today.” That would be the current response. You would wait until the roads were plowed, like that night, and then you would get your damn paper the next day and you’d end up getting two papers. It wasn’t an option. There was nothing in my upbringing that said, you can tell your boss, no. Now, if I thought it would have been very dangerous or life threatening, I probably would have said, no but short of that, there was a slightly different mentality in the air. You did what you were fucking told, for the most part which is a little bit different now.

Diabolique: “The Princess Di Factor” was a thought-provoking chapter because you talk about the click-baiting, disinformation and too much information that occurs on social media. Some of your peers have their PR reps handle their feeds but you are very present in yours. Do you think someone who is interested in getting into show business has to obtain “influencer” status?

BC: I think there is certainly pressure to do it. The old actors when they were doing a film could get away with telling the local studio, “By the way, I don’t do social media.” They say, “I’ve never done it. I don’t have a Twitter feed. I’m not starting now.” They can get away with it. But a younger thespian has a website and at least two or three social media platforms. I think its important to get a distinction of what are using them for? Facebook is all mercenary. Whenever I post, its just for a link to get tickets. I just do that to keep the account warm but I won’t add to it. That one is really inflammatory. They are finally starting to take the misinformation down. It should just be illegal. The stats are mind boggling. Something like 65% of the people who refuse to do social distancing and stuff like that get their information from YouTube. Its not news sources. Its like the Wild West. I think it needs to be settled. I would introduce journalistic standards and practices where by if you tell a little white lie, you get yanked and if you get fact checked and the facts say you’re wrong, that gets yanked.

Diabolique: At the beginning of your book, you discuss the toll of COVID-19 isolation and changes to the convention and motion picture industries. After presenting the Ashland Independent Film Festival awards virtually, do you think conventions might go that route in the future? San Diego Comic Con has gone entirely online which is surprising. Galaxy Con is another.

BC: If we don’t straighten this out, yeah. Sports are going to be weird for a while. Large venues are just going to be strange. How are you going to figure out the San Diego Comic Con? How are they going to make people feel comfortable jamming 125,000 people over a four-day period into that convention center which is already elbow to elbow and unhealthy? I don’t know. I’ve talked to promoters about a bunch of different things. I’m doing a Drive-In tour. Also, some theaters have opened up again so I am going to encourage and reward that so I have added five theater dates for later this summer: Austin, Dallas, Houston, Oklahoma City and San Antonio. I’m getting back out on the road. This is not a tour year at all but when I heard that drive-ins were making a comeback, I thought let me be part of that. Some of them are struggling to open and I want to help. I’m tired of being on the sidelines. I want to get back into it. Drive-ins are perfect. You’ve got your distance. I can go up to cars and hassle them and there’s no problem. I can shine my flashlight in the cars, see if people are having sex, there’s a lot of fun stuff we can do. I want to be the first guy they meet when they come into the place to park. I want to be the guy that parks everybody. It’s time. Everyone wants to feel normal again. Eat the meatloaf sandwich. Going to the drive-in is the oldest meatloaf sandwich you could ever eat. Bring the hooch. Hide it under the seat. Bring a cooler, bring your reefer…

Diabolique: In The Cool Side of My Pillow, you mentioned that you were going to attend San Diego Comic Con, New York Comic Con and the 2020 Electronics Expo which were all canceled due to the pandemic. Were you going to promote the Evil Dead game?

BC: That’s what I was going to do. That’s what I was going to those conventions for.

Diabolique: What’s the status on it?

BC: I have been looking at and approving a bunch of new stuff. They are full-fledged, full bore into it. I think they are talking 2021 for an actual release. Its rolling along, looking great. It got delayed because of the nightmare of video games. Platforms change and evolve. You look at somebody else’s games and go, “Shit! We have to change everything now.” We have to stay current. I have to finish doing the voice work.

Diabolique: I know you are aware of all the rumors surrounding potential work in the future. You even mentioned in your book that you had a few offers. Is there a possibility that you might show up in Doctor Strange 2 and Mall Rats 2?

BC: The Kevin Smith thing could happen if it all winds up together but we haven’t had serious conversations about it. For Dr. Strange, everyone is at the mercy of what Marvel is going to do and this backlog of movies they’re going to do now. So, I think it won’t be until 2021. Marvel has to figure this all out. They have to figure out what movies they are going to do next, what movies they are going to delay, what movies they are going to shit can, what movies they are going to advance and speed up…the marketplace is ever fluid.

Diabolique: Do you have a release date in mind for The Cool Side of My Pillow?

BC: I have to say summer. We’re blasting away. We’re finishing graphics and photos and all that. We’re doing some legal crap. I’m starting a publishing company too. Tartan Media is going to release it. It will be my Campbell clan logo. It will be just to put things out. Movies, TV shows, whatever. That’s the new shingle.

Diabolique: Is there anything else on the horizon?

BC: Because the book isn’t going through Simon & Schuster, they’ll kind of have to find it where they find it. I’ll tweet about it. It will hopefully be available later this summer through Audible. I am going to do the audio book myself within the next two weeks because I want the e-book and the audiobook to come out at the same time. That way it gives you a choice. I want this to be a summer read.

Diabolique: Any updates on Bruce vs Frankenstein?

BC:  With Bruce vs Frankenstein, I talked with Mike Richardson, who is my partner on this and we’re going to start with a graphic novel. So, I am going to adapt the screenplay. We’re going to put that out first so people in the industry can get a better sense of it. Mike has been selling a lot of projects to Netflix and he said that’s kind of the way to go with his material and fantasy stuff so he suggested we do that first. We’ll get a great artist, sell it in comic book form, people can totally see it and as a director, its kind of like doing storyboards. It’s a tremendous amount of extra prep that I can do just by going through it because I actually have to think about pages, panels and descriptions. It’s a format that’s not my normal format. Screenplay format, I can fart, I got that down. This is different with the way it looks on the page so it will be a very interesting translation process.

Diabolique: Are you doing any projects outside of Tartan Media?

BC: There’s this movie, 18 ½. It’s directed by Dan Mirvish. He’s with Slamdance. The story is about the missing minutes of the Nixon tapes and what happened to those minutes. Originally, I got hired to play a character in the movie and I couldn’t do it for a number of reasons and then the guy came back and asked if I would play Nixon.

Diabolique: So, the audience will just hear you?

BC: Yes. Apparently, it’s this 18-minute-long fight scene where you will hear Nixon in the background. Ted Raimi comes into play Alexander Haig and Jon Cryer is playing Haldeman. We did all these sessions over Zoom and we each recorded them separately (saying this in Nixon’s voice) having our conversations. They will put it all together and put it in the background.

Diabolique: Anything new to report on Evil Dead?  

BC: The official name is Evil Dead Rise. We’re getting a new draft in. I don’t think anything will happen until 2021. Full bore ahead, we’re very excited about it. A whole, new ballgame. No more cabin in the woods.

#Bruce Campbell #The Cool Side of my Pillow

[tacitusauxilium]

P3 Bad End -Fall of SEES-

@dxfiedfxte // @revolver-jesus

~~~~~

-January 31, 2010-

-Time: Midnight-

At the lobby of Tartarus, the group of SEES, gathers to face their last fight. To reach the top of the Tower and confront Nyx before she brings the ‘Fall’ to humanity, which basically translates to complete human genocide.

The group consists of 9 individuals.

Minato Arisato, Yukari Takeba, Junpei Iori, Akihiko Sanada, Mitsuru Kirijo, Fuuka Yamagishi, Aigis, Ken Amada and Koromaru.

The group walk towards a green portal on the side. A portal mechanism that will take them to floor 252. As close to the top as they can get.

“Everyone.” Fuuka spoke, halting the group. “Is it ok…if I go with you this time? Instead of staying down here.”

The request was surprising to the group. They all eyed each other. “Any reason Fuuka-chan?” Yukari asked.

“Well…” Fuuka nods. Her hands joined together, as she stares at her friends. “Tonight, is the fight of our lives, so I thought…I should be there with you.” Fuuka said “Not just in spirit, but physically there to aid you. We’ve been through so much together…we should end it together as well.”

“Fuuka-chan…” Yukari spoke softly, touched by Fuuka’s simple, yet strong motivation.

“I don’t object.” Mitsuru said, nodding, a faint smile on her lips. “But to be safe, please stay close to us at all times. Understood?”

Fuuka nods. “I understand senpai.”

“Good.” Mitsuru nods. “Then let us be off.”

1 by 1, the group enters the portal and transfer to floor 252.

Only Minato and Fuuka remain. “Hey Fuuka?” Minato halts Fuuka.

“Y-Yes?” Fuuka blinks, not expecting Minato to stop her. “What is it Minato-kun?”

Minato takes a step forward, hands in his pockets. “You did good…back there. Voicing your feelings.”

“Ah!” The compliment surprised Fuuka. Her cheeks turned a light hue red. “Thank you…I only thought I should say what I feel. As you taught me.”

Minato chuckles “Well, I didn’t exactly teach you that. You learned it yourself, even if I partially guided you there.”

“Awful cooking aside?” Minato cringed. “…I know.” Fuuka sighed. “But I am getting better. Just you wait Minato-kun. I’ll cook us a ‘We defeated Nyx’ fest that will…hopefully not churn your stomachs out.”

Minato got a nice laugh out of that. “I’ll hold you to that Fuuka.” With that said, Fuuka steps on the portal.

“…Huh?” Fuuka blinked after pressing the buttons. “…Minato?”

Minato frowned. He walks over to Fuuka. “What’s wrong?”

Fuuka worriedly looks over to him. “The controls aren’t working. They’re shut off.”

“…What…?” Now Minato grows equally worried. “But that’s not possible.”

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

Both Minato and Fuuka are taken aback by the sudden sound. The two turn to see a familiar, and unwanted face, sitting on the lobby’s staircase.

“Bravo, Bravo Minato-kun. It’s a grand evening, isn’t it? The last…party, the human race will ever be a part of.”

“…Takaya.” Minato quickly reached for his Evoker. “…So, you survived Moonlight Bridge.”

Takaya Sakaki, leader of STREGA, and the murdered of Shinjiro Aragaki. He chuckles, unamused as he twirls his revolver, yellow eyes staring at blue eyes. “I’m hurt Minato-kun, to think that you would want me dead so badly.” A small smirk etches his lips. “When did you start to think like Aragaki?”

The mention of Shinjiro got Minato more riled up than he expected. “You have no right to say his name.”

“Heh…Aragaki has no rights anymore.” Takaya gets up from the stairs. Still twirling his revolver, and his other hand partially in his pocket, he takes a few steps forward and stops. “The dead never do. That is the beauty of it. Death is freedom, Minato-kun.” He puts a hand on his chest, smiling. “It is a blessing. It is surprising that you don’t see it. After all, Aragaki is no longer suffering, is he not? He’s free from the pain that his mortal body provided him.” Sighing, Takaya shakes his head. “I envy him in that regard.”

“Don’t speak of Shinjiro-senpai as if you knew him.” Fuuka adds, frowning. “It was your pills that got him to where he was. If you hadn’t dragged him to such a dark path.”

“Now now-“Takaya grins, playfully wagging his finger back and forth. “We only offered him our services. If he was too weak to continue the agony of living, then my final actions towards him were an honor. You should be grateful for that.”

“…Shut up.” Minato said, his tone dripping venom. “If you want Death so bad Takaya, take that revolver, and aim it at your head. The trigger should make you quite happy, and out of the havoc of living, as you so see things.”

The dark joke didn’t bother Takaya one bit. He only laughs. “Well well well, I never expected that kind of talk from you Minato-kun.”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re in a hurry.” Minato deadpanned, itching for his revolver. He noticed Fuuka has been behind him since Takaya appeared, and at a safe distance as well. Nearing the entrance to Tartarus in case she has to make an escape…clever. “We have a date with Nyx.”

“I’m well aware.” Takaya said, and stops twirling his revolver. He holds it right and aims it at Minato. “But, I’m afraid this is one party you won’t be attending.”

“…What did you do to the portal?” Minato angrily inquires. Takaya only laughs.

“Don’t worry about your friends. Jin will handle them. You worry about me now.” Takaya growls, and suddenly growls a grayish white hue. “HYPNOS!”

A semi-transparent being emerges from Takaya’s body. His Persona. A disfigured body held in the air by wings seemingly grafted into his spine. The Persona hovers above Takaya, as he continues to aim the revolver at Minato.

Right behind him, Fuuka summoned Juno, engulfed in a protective sphere. “Have it your way.” Minato said, grabbing his Evoker.

Minato-kun… Fuuka’s voice echoes in his mind. Something is…off about Takaya. I didn’t sense him earlier; And even now, with Juno, I can barely get a reading on him. I’m not sure what’s going on, but he feels different…be careful.

‘…Alright. Thanks, Fuuka.’ Minato thought back, eyeing Takaya curiously. Sure enough, even Minato can notice something’s up. When he summoned Hypnos, Takaya didn’t clutch his head in pain. He summoned it normally, without forcing it, without the use of an external tool like the Evoker.

‘How did he do that…?’ Minato thought, curious, but also nervous. It’s been around 3 months since Moonlight Bridge. Did Takaya undergo some sort of mental training…?

If he separated him from the rest of his group, there’s a good reason for it. Whatever it is…he’ll just have to fight with everything he’s got. He knows his friends can handle Jin.

Evoker aiming at his head, Minato stares at Takaya. Neither make a move, like a wild west shootout.

….

Takaya makes the first move, firing every shot in his revolver. Minato sprints and evades each one skillfully. Upon close range, he draws out his short blade and goes in for the swing.

To his surprise, Takaya blocks each of the swings with his revolver; steel meeting barreled steel.

Hypnos moved into swipe Minato away, which it works. Minato flipped backwards and summoned Orpheus Telos, the evolution of his original Persona. It grabs Hypnos’ face and slams an Agidyne right at it.

Takaya hissed, feeling the pain in his mind. Telos was about to fire another, but Hypnos grabs his hands and pushes him back with great force.

SINGLE SHOT! Takaya fired a large, but simplistic arrow-like shot from his revolver, thanks to Hypnos’ powers. The arrow bullet homes in on Minato at high-speed and follows him as Minato sprints back. ‘Orpheus!’

His Persona nodded, and after a quick roll to avoid the bullet, before it comes back, Orpheus smacks it to the side. Now bouncing all over the floor, but Minato ignores it and rushes at Takaya, who scoffs at him. “Arrow Rain!” he calls out, and Hypnos makes it rain arrows. Minato evades them all and goes for a slice. Takaya blocks it with his revolver, smirking to himself as Hypnos hovers just above him, and at point blank range, charges a Ziodyne.

Behind you Minato!

Minato saw through the eyes of Orpheus, that the single shot from earlier bounced, and is heading right at him. It had bounced off Juno, unfortunately.

That’s when Minato gets an idea.

He glows black/red, and his Persona changes to Black Frost. A bigger Jack Frost that has reverse colors and looks eviler.

MOONLIGHT RAGE!

Suddenly, Takaya is on the defensive, with Minato overpowering him thanks to a red aura engulfing him. He grunts when Minato kicks him back, then ducks. His own single shot from earlier blasts him dead center, skidding him back and crashing onto the stairs.

Minato changed back to Telos; sword ready to strike. Despite some blood pouring out of his chest, Takaya chuckles, rather amused. He raises his head, grinning at Minato.

“Well then, I might have to take this a little seriously after all.” He cracks his neck and isn’t quite holding back anymore at this rate.

Takaya starts Round 2 by firing a Megidolaon, then having Hypnos…slash it into 3? They turn into Megidola’s now. “HAAH!” Hypnos’s wings glow, and suddenly the 3 Megidola’s circle around Minato rapidly. He eyes all 3 warily, unsure which one is gonna move first.

Turns out its all 3. Quick on his feet, Minato changed his Persona to Thanatos. The Persona an old friend left him behind, with a promise to meet again later, to stop him.

The Death Persona engulfs Minato in a Cosmic-like Aura; Just as the 3 Megidola’s close in and explode on him.

Well…they would if they had done anything. 

RUNIC SHIELD!

The aura Thanatos blessed Minato with protected him from that one attack. Quickly, Minato changed back to Black Frost, and using Moonlight Rage again, goes on the offensive. Surprised by his attack being deflected, Takaya evades Minato’s swings, until he manages to clash with one, and grins. He pulls the trigger and fires.

The bullet doesn’t just push Minato back, it bounced his sword as well, and scratched his cheek. Minato fell to one knee, surprised and in slight pain.

More surprised when Hypnos fires the Ziodyne from earlier that he thought he stopped. Cursing himself, Minato quickly rolls back and narrowly avoids the incoming lightning bolt. The flash of light upon contact with the floor gave Minato an opportunity.

DIAMOND DUST!

Black Frost screeches and sends giant snowflakes at Takaya’s direction, freezing the very molecules in the air itself as it closes in.

Takaya lets out a loud Tch’ and has Hypnos use Maragidyne. The Persona’s wings glow red and fires a volley of giant fireballs that explode upon contact with the giant snowflakes. Takaya smirked, and it would have been good; if he hadn’t failed to see Minato close in, only his Persona changed. He switched it right after the ice attack. Its now Alice, the famous evil girl of the wonderland books.

Takaya had no time to react when Minato slammed his palm onto his chest.

SALOME’S KISS!

‘What?!’ Takaya thought, feeling himself…Binded? Sealed? Whatever it is, he can’t shake off the feeling. “What did you-“

Now Minato! Strike him down!

Minato quickly changed his Persona again to Attis.

AEON RAIN!

Literal to its name, a multitude of stars fell from the ceiling and slammed onto Takaya. Though whatever was binding him from that attack from Alice was gone. Growling, he goes on the offensive again.

“Myriad Arrows!” Takaya shouts. Hypnos’s wings glow and large volleys of arrow hail from above.

THERMOPYLAE!

Minato is now engulfed in a greenish aura, and just as the volley’s hit, he’s able to avoid all of them, moving faster than normal. Much faster.

“Dormina!” but not fast enough to avoid the real attack. Hypnos cast a spell on Minato upon Myriad Arrows ending, and it put him to sleep.

Minato! Wake up!

“zZz….Mmm…Fuuka…you taste…delicious.”

MINATO THIS IS NOT THE TIME!

“Your…zzz.. special breakfast is so good…”

…Wow ok, I thought he meant…n-no, MINATO! COMPLIMENT ME LATER!

Too late however, Takaya closed in and kicked Minato right in his stomach. That woke him up. The pistol whip to his face? also woke him up. Hypnos’ Cruel Attack Pierce skill certainly made sure he stayed awake.

All 3 attacks dealt plenty of damage to Minato and the last one blasted him back after Hypnos clawed him. He grunts, ignoring the small sensation of blood and the stains on his shirt.

Takaya says nothing, merely grinning as he continues the assault with Magarudyne, Hypnos flocking its wings rapidly to deliver powerful gusts of wind.

Minato grunted, and switches to Black Frost again. Casting Diamond Dust, he freezes the very winds to a halt, stopping the attack entirely.

He couldn’t stop the Megidola that followed after. The blast shook him by surprise, tearing his clothes a bit as he’s pushed back and falls to one knee, having lost a lot of health.

Wasting no time, Takaya orders Hypnos to fire another Megidola.

MINATO!

‘Not…out!’ Minato smirks. He switches to Orpheus Telos. ‘Rough Takaya? Have it rougher than the ruffs!’

RETURN FROM YOMI!

Orpheus Telos engulfs Minato in a white aura, and all his wounds heal, back to full health. ‘Much better’ Minato gets up, and smirks. ‘Now then.’

He switches to Alice CONCENTRATE!

Then to Attis THERMOPYLAE!

Black Frost MOONLIGHT RAGE!

And finally, Thanatos. Minato raises his sword and swings it down. BROADSHOT!

Both Minato’s sword and Thanatos’ cut through the Almighty Attack rather easily, catching Takaya by surprise. “What?!”

Minato then sprints towards Takaya, faster than ever and stabs him via the side. “I’m done with this.” Minato said coldly, and summons Telos. MEGIDOLAON!

At such a close range, Telos fires the attack anyways, and it hits Takaya, pushing him back…then exploding upon contact with the stairs at the back. The force is enough to shake the entire floor; but thankfully, no physical damage to the tower, which is good.

“You did it Minato!” Fuuka cheered excitedly, having called Juno back. She runs to Minato and hugs him tightly, smiling like the happiest girl in the world. “That was a close one though.”

Minato returns the hug, despite the little soreness he has. Nothing a few beads can heal though. “Thanks” he says, smiling back. “…Haah…bastard was stronger…” Minato said, hating to admit that. “But anyways…” he looks at the portal machine. “We need to reactivate that and move on.”

Fuuka nods. She reluctantly pulls back from Minato “I’ll get to work on….H-huh?!” Fuuka stares at the stairs, where Takaya is. “M-Minato…”

Minato turns around and is just as shocked as Fuuka. The smoke dispersed, and Takaya is still standing after that last attack. Heavily wounded but standing.

“Hehehe…HAHAHAHAHA!” And he starts to laugh like a maniac. “Oh, this is…this is MAGNIFICENT…truly, magnificent!” He walks, rather wobbly down the stairs and to the floor again. “To summon such…power, even in the face of death.” Takaya puts his hands in his pockets. “You truly are astonishing, Minato-kun. The power of the Wild Card is to be feared after all.”

Takaya’s sudden grin turned to a large frown. “Which is why I can’t let you live. Whatever it takes…destiny awaits us all tonight. That cannot change.” He takes out a small pillbox from his pocket, and takes out from that box, a large blue/pink pill. “I didn’t think I’d have to use this…but it matters not.” He tosses the box aside, and takes the pill into his mouth, then swallows it. “Aah…”

Minato and Fuuka wanted to ask, but they doubt they’d get answers. Instead, they prepare themselves for the worst.

And the worst did happen. Before their very eyes, Takaya’s wounds heal. But more than that, his body oversaw a drastic transformation. His formerly thinly body grew muscles, about as much as Akihiko, if not more. His glowing yellow eyes, turned bloody red.

But the biggest change wasn’t Takaya. It was his Persona. Hypnos before Minato and Fuuka’s eyes, began to shift and transform.

By the end of the transformation, Hypnos was no more. The disfigured body is long gone, replaced with a humanoid body garbed in golden white robes. The large wings that Hypnos had become a pearl white and are far smaller than before, firmly accommodated on the sides of the Persona’s head. Its face has a blue/white mask with a spiral that descends to the center. The robes are adorned with swirls and twist shapes in black color. The Persona also has a staff with a white/blueish flame at its tip.

“Aah…much better.” Takaya says, breathing heavily as he grips his fists, picking up his revolver and grinning maniacally at Minato. “I feel better than I ever have.”

“…What the hell was that pill?” Minato asks.

Takaya only smiles. “A gift from an old friend…and you shouldn’t worry about this and that. My Persona has evolved, and with it, new power. Say hello to Somnus! My blessing, and your demise Minato!”

Takaya, now engulfed in an evil purple/black aura, orders Somnus to attack. “INSOMNIA!”

Minato quickly raised his sword, but the attack didn’t hit him.

“Min..ato…” ?! Minato turned around. He’s barely able to catch Fuuka before she hits the floor.

“Fuuka? Fuuka!” Minato calls out, but all he gets are Fuuka’s light snores. “He put her to sleep…”

He turns back to Takaya’s maniac laugh, and the large glowing sphere above him and his Persona. “Now die with your girlfriend Minato-kun, Megidolaon!”

Somnus launches the powerful almighty attack at Minato.

Minato cursed himself. ‘Ok…I’m going to have to take him seriously, for better or worse.’ Standing up, he summons Telos, and fires his own Megidolaon in return.

Both attacks clash, and neither seems to overpower the other…at least until Takaya’s starts to push Minato’s back.

“?!” Not believing it, Minato pushes back with Telos. To his shock, he’s getting pushed back hard.

“Afraid Minato?! Your death is imminent! say your prayers!” Takaya yells, grinning like a madman.

‘His Persona surpasses Telos…?’ Minato growls ‘I’m wasting too much time on him. I guess its all or nothing.’ He sighed, and recalls Telos, just before the attacks engulf him.

Just before the two Megidolaon’s hit the floor and explode, they burst into particles, and Minato glows a white blue aura, with Telos now gone, but a new Persona takes the stand.

“? What’s this…?” Takaya frowns “I’ve never seen this one before…”

“And you weren’t supposed to.” Minato said, annoyed. “This is my ultimate Persona. Messiah!”

“…Messiah.” Takaya repeats, chuckling. “Quite a poetic name. A savior are you now, Minato-kun? Who are you saving, exactly?” He frowns, growling “The Dictators that strip away the free will of their people? The politicians that lie to gain reputation for their own gains, betraying the very people that guided them there? The pedophiles and abusers, that surround themselves in the ‘good’ people to protect their own sins?”

“…No.” Minato aims his sword forward “I save the people that can put those to a stop. The resistances that overthrow those tyrants and make them pay, the witnesses and victims that rise up and bring their abuser down, the ones that seek truth above the lies and bribes. I save the future that sees life worth living, unlike you who seeks death, because they’re too weak to find a purpose.” Minato said coolly.

Though his words don’t phase Takaya, he merely grunts. “Fine then…right here, tonight. Let us see, what humanity dictates as its future. Death in peace or living in suffering!”

“Fine by me. Don’t complain when you lose.” Minato said, ready for the assault, though Takaya only laughs.

“Dear Minato-kun, destiny never loses. You will understand by the end of this.”

Minato stares at Takaya and shifts his gaze to the sleeping Fuuka. ‘…I need to draw fire away from her. I can’t protect her while dealing with him at the same time.’

His thoughts were cut off when Takaya began the assault.

“Primal Force!” Takaya shouts, and from the flame on the staff, Somnus launches a large flaming arrow at Minato. Its size doesn’t hinder its speed or power, something that Minato quickly took notice.

‘Shit’ He rolls over it just as it passes by. As he thought, it homes and ignores Fuuka, focusing on him. He evades, ducks, and rolls back from it. Each time the arrow grows greater in speed. It flies up, and then comes down on Minato, exploding in a large range.

Minato had no time to dodge it, but it didn’t matter. He felt no pain, no damage from it; rather he felt himself healed up to a strong degree. “…? Oh.” He wanted to slap himself. ‘Right. Messiah absorbs Pierce. How the hell did I forget that?’

Not like many Shadows have that element, and the only one from his team to even use Pierce is Yukari, who…well…rarely hits her targets. No offense.

“Heh.” Minato chuckles “You’re going to have to do better Takaya.”

“Gladly.” Somnus suddenly starts to glow a strange cyan/magenta/yellow mix of colors. “PSYCHO FORCE!”

Minato raised an eyebrow at the name of the attack. Nothing happens though.

“UUURGH!!” Ok something did happen. Minato suddenly felt a huge amount of pain; yet it wasn’t pain of the body, it was pain of the mind. His head throbs immensely in pain, equivalent to a severe Migraine. Bad enough that his senses went crazy. He can barely hear or even see. “AAgh…wh-WHAT…?!” In his pain, he dropped his sword by accident, and failed to see Takaya order Somnus to cast another spell.

“AVALANCHE!”

Suddenly, giant rocks fall from the sky, creating debris and smoke all over the place. None of them hit Minato, thankfully. Slowly, the pain started to subside. At the very least, he could somewhat see and hear. ‘What are these spells…? I don’t recognize these elements…ugh…my head…its not so bad now but still…’ He tried to see, but the smokescreen from the debris and the large chunks of debris itself made it hard to discern what’s flesh and what isn’t. ‘What is going on…where did Takaya learn these elements? Was it that pill…? Where is he…? I can’t hear him…’

He slowly stands up and tries to look around. He can’t tell anything apart. ‘Great…I’m cornered and a sitting duck. If Fuuka were awake she could pinpoint his location for me. Come on, focus Minato…he has to make a sound at some point…’

Bump Bump, Bump Bump, Bump Bump

Nothing…and yet… ‘…Why do I feel so afraid…?’ Minato thought to himself. His heartrate is increasing exponentially, his body is flaring up in temperature, as if reacting to fear. His senses are starting to come back as well. He blinks a few times, slowly regaining his sight.

Bump Bump, Bump Bump, Bump Bump

Oh, that’s the fear instinct. Takaya snuck up on him, and his revolver is aimed right at his forehead.

Bump Bump

He hears the safety trigger go off…

BOOM

“?!” Takaya was suddenly pushed back by Minato emitting a ridiculously powerful Aura. Worse, 2 Persona summon wildly in chains that break and glare at him. “LUCIFER, COSMIC FLARE!”

The right Persona, Lucifer, blasts Takaya with a powerful Nuclear spell, severely hurting Takaya and sending him flying.

“KEEP UP, SATAN!” Minato calls out the left Persona. It flies and grabs Takaya “BLACK VIPER!”

Satan wraps Takaya in its slimy bug-like tentacles, and squeezes the life out of Takaya, then throws him to the floor. Takaya bounces like a rag doll before stopping. Yet shockingly he gets up, albeit wobbly.

“FUSION SPELL, ARMAGEDDON!” The two Persona join forces, and fire an almighty attack, about 3 times the size of Megidolaon.

The sheer size of the attack made Takaya nearly afraid. Nearly. “SOMNUS…!”

Takaya uttered a word before the attack hit him, and a massive explosion shakes the entire lobby. Fuuka’s sleeping form was also pushed back (a blessing, really). Minato wasn’t affected by the explosion, but he stares it, in awe and mostly confusion. The two Persona vanish, and Messiah returns from Minato’s unconscious mind.

‘…What…w-what was that?’ Minato thought warily. ‘Satan and…Lucifer?’ He falls to one knee, panting heavily, his headache back again thanks to the sheer willpower he unwillingly used. ‘But…I-I didn’t fuse them at the Velvet Room…’ He shook his head. ‘I couldn’t…Elizabeth told me they were too much for me. How did I…?’

Well, whatever the reason, it did the job. ‘Good riddance Takaya, stay dead…’

…

“Heh… nice skill back there.” Takaya chuckles from the smoke. As it clears up, he’s…surprisingly alive. Shocking Minato. “You nearly killed me back there, you know?”

Minato gritted his teeth, starting to lose his patience at this point. “How did you-“

“Phantasos.” Takaya explains, smirking “My Persona made me invulnerable to all attacks, for a small period of time.” He sighs heavily. “I cast it just in time. One second later, and I would have been done for.”

“…Goddammit Takaya. Stay dead.” Minato said, agitated and plain annoyed now.

“Hehe…not yet Minato-kun.” Takaya aims his revolver at the Fool. “We’re nearing the climax now, pay attention.” He motions to look up.

“?” he looks up. Too late. Somnus’ staff changed to an…axe? And slammed it down at Minato. Minato screamed in pain, the attack shredding part of his clothes and skin. Blood pours out badly, and worse, Somnus picks Minato up and tosses him like a rock onto one of the pillars.

“FREIDYNE!” Somnus casts and fires a powerful nuclear spell at Minato that blasts and shreds him more, now bleeding from other places.

Landing heavily onto the corner wall, Minato ignores the immense pain, and takes out a pill from his school’s jacket pocket and swallows it. “Gah…”

Instantly, he feels his wounds heal, his skin rejuvenates and closes, and all blood recuperated. Better, he starts to glow in a faint Blue/Green/Red aura mix and gets up. “Takaya!” Minato shouts, and has Messiah rush at Somnus. Takaya smirks and has him down the same with Somnus.

Both Personas clash several times at breakneck speed. Both Minato and Takaya cringe with every blow, feeling the pain in their minds, until the final blow blasts Somnus back tremendously. “What…?!” Takaya fell to one knee, clutching his head in pain, growling, and glaring at Minato.

“You’re not the only one who can buff himself Takaya.” Minato said, Evoker in hand. “You underestimate Messiah, and the help of outside.”

“…Outside?” Takaya raises an eyebrow.

‘That trip to Yasoinaba was a miracle.’ Minato thought, recalling that summer trip there. ‘That girl with the poetry and the punk getup…Marie. Right, that was her name. That pill I just took was from her. What did she call it…Ofuda Sutra? Said it’d protect me.’ Minato thought. He forms a smile, a thankful smile. ‘I don’t know if she knew, but regardless, I’m thankful. Next time I’m there, I’m hugging her big time.’

“Hmm…this is turning out to be an annoyance.” Takaya gets on one knee, albeit barely. Minato can tell he’s on his last leg. That buff or whatever from the pill must be wearing off.

“You’re telling me?” Minato says rather sarcastically. ‘I hope the others are ok. I wasn’t expecting this to take so damn long. Wait for me a little longer, everyone.’ “But it’s time to end it Takaya.”

Takaya chuckles, smiling wickedly “On that, we agree Minato-kun. One last dance.”

“Only your last.” Minato pulls the trigger and has Messiah rush at Takaya and Somnus. “AGNEYASTRA!”

“ICELOS!” Between the powerful ice attack from Takaya, and the immense swords from Messiah, the victor was decided rather easily.

Messiah’s large swords cut through the ice like butter, and the God Hand that came later from Minato hit Takaya square-on, as did the swords to Somnus. Between the two attacks to Somnus and Takaya, the duo fell, crashing against the stairs, Blood drawn heavily. Takaya groans as he feels Somnus fade back into his mind, and the immense pain that he feels.

Minato recalls Messiah but keeps the Evoker close to him at all times to his head. “…You done?” Minato asks, panting lightly. The buff from the pill vanished. Seems it was short-lived… “Because I have a human race to save Takaya.”

“…Tch…you fool…you really are this naïve.” Takaya chuckles, eyes closed. “We are but mere mortals. Ants, to the Gods above. We cannot change our fate. You would be foolish to deny it. Destiny was already decided for us, long before even our own births.”

“Cut the crap.” Minato said angrily. “We fight against that destiny, for good reason. Humanity can learn from its mistakes and do better.”

“Heh…so naïve indeed. Its almost sickening.” Takaya opens his eyes and struggles to sit down, his eyes back to their normal yellow. “If Humanity did not learn from the death of Jesus Christ, from the Crusades, the genocide of the tribes of old, or even from the World Wars that killed billions, they aren’t going to start now Minato-kun.” He laughs. “Its our destiny to end ourselves. There is no such thing as prophecies or myths that tell us our fate. We only have to look around us…the threat to humanity, is itself. Always has been, always will be.”

“I really don’t care what you think.” Minato says sharply. “We’re done here.”

“Hm…Yes Minato-kun. We both are done for.” He grins. “Goodbye.”

“? What are you-“

Schloook

Minato’s eyes widen. He trembled, suddenly. His Evoker left his hands, thanks to the immense pain he feels from his chest.

He looks down to see…his own sword, covered in his own blood, having pierced his chest. He turns around.

“…Fuuka…?” He muttered, confused, scared, bewildered. Indeed, Fuuka is awake, and stabbed him from behind.

“Hehehe…how ironic. See Minato? I told you.” Takaya’s laughs echo in the chamber. He stands up, albeit with effort. “I was never the threat. You should have watched your girlfriend a little closer.”

“…Y-You…” he spews blood, thanks to Fuuka pulling back the sword, and tossing it to the side.

“Yes. Earlier, I casted Somnia on her.” Takaya lifts Minato’s head to stare at him. “You should have paid attention. I didn’t put her to sleep Minato.” He grins, and slaps Minato gently. “I put her under my control, my will. I had her pretend to be asleep…and as we fought, I disarmed you. She got the sword while you were surrounded in that debris and smoke earlier.”

Minato fell to his knees, unable to call his Persona anymore. Breathing became hard to do. A slight feeling of faintness started to overcome him. His hearing is slightly faint as well now. “You…cheater…”

“Cheater?” Takaya shook his head. “I told you Minato-kun. Destiny is inevitable. I merely guided you to it. You can thank Kirijo for that.” He chuckles. “But I’ll be merciful. It is your last moments of life after all.” He snaps his fingers.

“W-…h-huh…?” Fuuka shook her head. “What…where-“

“Welcome back sleeping beauty.” Takaya smirks at her. “And to your waking nightmare.”

He aims his revolver at Fuuka. Minato saw it, his eyes widened. All of his instincts kicked. Everything went slow. He tries to get up. He fails, he trips. The pain of his head hitting the hard floor didn’t matter to the pain of seeing Takaya pull the trigger. He screams, with all his might and soul.  

NOOOOOO!

BANG

The sound of a bullet firing echoes in the chamber, and it hit its target dead-on.

Fuuka fell to her knees seconds later, eyes widened, shock from the sound of the bullet, the sound of Minato’s scream, the confusion of what is going on…and the sheer immense pain that just pierced her chest.

“Hah…how quaint.” Takaya shook his head. “A lovely way to end this little game, don’t you think?” he kicks Minato and laughs. “Well…it is done. You can thank this defeat to Kirijo, and Ikutsuki.” He grins “I forgot to mention that. Who do you think supplied us with the pills needed to control our Persona?” he stares at the shook Minato, and the coughing Fuuka. “The only one capable of producing said pills. Shuji Ikutsuki was our supplier. The fall of Aragaki can be placed on him as well. His work after all…the same goes for that pill I took earlier.” He explains. “A last parting gift from him, and what a gift. It did its job, and I am more than content with the results.”

Minato and Fuuka didn’t say anything, too engrossed in their own pain to answer. “…Good night, the two of you. This was fun. Sweet dreams in death.” Takaya laughs, and his laugh echoes in the lobby as he leaves Tartarus, with Minato and Fuuka struggling to survive.

“F-Fuuka…” Minato struggled to get up, trying to contain the blood leaving his wounded body. “I-I can’t stop this…” no healing pill will heal this wound. He starts to feel weaker as well. “F-Fuuka…I…”

Fuuka continues to cough blood, crying as she does so. “M-Min…e-everyone…”

———————————————————————————————————————

Above on floor 258, Jin breathes heavily, leaning on the wall as blood pours from the various bullet holes in his body. “Damn…you.” Jin grunted. “If I knew you had such an ability, I would have killed you first…oh well…” he slumps over. “It’s done…”

Aigis pants heavily as she barely stands. Her weapons fall from her body, as her damaged armor and form succumb to the pain. She stares in utter shock, disbelief, and despair. The other members of SEES are dead. Jin killed them all. It was an ambush, and she was the only survivor from the explosion.

“M..Minato…wh…why…what happ-SYSTEMERRORCORE.EXEDAMAGED.PLUMEOFDUSKENERGYLOW.SHUTTINGDOWNSHUTTINGDOWN.”

Aigis fell to the floor, succumbed to her injuries…

————————————————————————————————————————

“Dead…” Fuuka spoke low enough for Minato to hear. “…Th-…they’re all dead…I-I can’t…I can’t sense them anymore…! Minato…!”

Minato just stayed there, near Fuuka, in utter disbelief. He coughs blood as well and feels even weaker. “F-Fuuka. It’s not…”

Fuuka coughs blood more violently, clutching her bloody chest. “I CAN’T BREATHE…MINATO I CAN’T BREATHE…!”

“Fuuka please, stay with me…!” Minato wanted all of this to be a nightmare. A horrifying nightmare that he would wake up from.

But then the entire Tower shook. He felt it.

…Nyx is awake. Outside the Tower, the Moon has opened up like a latch, revealing a large red eye that watches the world. In an instant, Nyx blasts constant massive shockwave that tears the planet and its people. Each one makes more humans succumb to their shadows, becoming large black blobs, losing their humanity in the process. Their flesh becoming tar, and their consciousness fading to sheer instinct.

Minato held Fuuka tightly, crying alongside his dying girlfriend as he feels the shockwaves, and his consciousness fade. “Fuuka…”

“…” No response. Fuuka feels cold…

…She’s dead. She died in his arms, having choked in her own blood…

And one more shockwave later, Minato felt himself die as well. An eternal sleep that he will never wake up from. Nobody will.

…

….

……

Death is not a hunter unbeknownst to its prey. One is always aware that it lies in wait. Though life is merely a journey to the grave, it must not be undertaken without hope. Only then will a traveler’s story live on, treasured by those who bid him farewell. But alas, my guest's life has now ended, his tale left unwritten. His destiny shattered.

…

….

…..

……

========================================================================

-???-

“Did you see that? This…this star right here.”

“It faded…that isn’t normal.”

“Indeed. Something is wrong…this timeline was not meant for destruction. I fear something is amiss. This unexpected shift can cause a ripple. We must watch the other timelines.”

“Do you want me to investigate?”

“…No. Not yet. We need to pinpoint what went wrong first. Let us analyze this failed timeline and see what changes it had from the original.”

“If we’re not careful, that ripple could affect us.”

“I’m aware. I’ll tell the others to be alert for any changes.”

“Understood…”

#drabble #HOLY FUCKING SHIT MIGUEL #OH MY GOD YOU ARE GOOD AND OWWWWW #OWWWWWWWWWWWW #and i tagged my minato and takaya BECAUSE JUST IMAGINE THE HELL #and the pain XD #pairing;; blueberry pie #submission

[jq37]

thoughts on this week's ep?

**spoilers for broadway brawl**

***Before we start, I remembered as I was typing this one of the important notes I lost from last week’s recap: Interesting that Christmas seemingly went off without a hitch. I expected Santa to come back into play somehow (like, someone would check on him to make sure Christmas was still on or he’d call them in to help or something) but he hasn’t, at least not yet.***

My guys, my guys, my guys. Was that something or was that something?

I think I am on record as saying that combat is my least favorite part of ttrpgs generally speaking because I’m here for the RP but when a combat episode shines it really freaking shines (see eg: that first combat ep of Bloodkeep where everyone went full Galaxy Brain except for Matt who couldn’t hit a single thing) and this is such a good example. This is easily a top five ep of the season for me, maybe top three so let’s get into it and break down why it was so awesome.

We start right where we left off with Titania and members of her court having come into the theater to beat the tar out of Misty mid-show.

Quick note: At the end of last ep, it was set up so that Misty was thrust on stage right after hearing the mirror was on stage which would place this fight right at the top of Act 2 but at the start of this ep, Brennan seems to indicate that it’s taking place during what would be the closing number. Which would make more sense but imagine you go see a play, the first act is super dope, and then the second act is an insane, minute long fight that’s pretty unconnected to the plot and then a buff, naked, beautiful man tells you the show is over and you should leave. Wild. Anyway.

Pixies with tommy guns in inherently funny.

So one of the things that makes this fight really great is the way it directly ties into the story in a way besides “These bad guys are in our way.” Misty is using this show as a part of her reincarnation spell so if the show is messed up, it fails and she’s on her last life. Brennan has a cool mechanic of making her roll death saves every round at a difficulty lower than her modifier (which is s/t crazy like 11) but that gets harder with damage done to her and performance checks failed by other players who decide to jump on stage. It’s a great way to make the battle feel like it has more personal stakes and it’s my fave original Brennan mechanic since the Family in Flames Sophie’s Choice situation.

(I love that the death save counter is changed for theater comedy/tragedy masks for this. Nice touch.)

Em, Esther, and Wally are also at the fight which is clutch.

Also, Sondheim is specifically here which is an insane detail to add just because.

WILD that no one knows what’s going on with the ritual initially because, as Lou almost does, getting all the civilians out is the smart move and it would COMPLETELY ruin Misty’s plans instantly.

Lou having Kingston take the stairs bc’s he’s 50+ years old and has no time for that nonsense has equal but opposite energy to him doing extra rolls for Fabian to do unnecessary parkour before a simple attack because Fabian’s Like That.

Murph fireblasts the hell out of Titania’s foot soldiers right off the bat from outside of counterspell range which is very cool.

“Give me a performance check for the cockroach.”

“You’re upstaging me bitch?”

Another great thing about this fight is that because of it’s theatrical nature, everyone’s RPing it more than a usual battle ep (or more intensely maybe is what I mean).

Titania hypnotizes Don Confetti and his goons into fighting for her.

“She doesn’t know she’s in a play but she does sing most of her dialogue which is helpful for you.” Titania is just Like That.

Pete drops an erupting earth and drops a sick 37 damage on those same minions Kug got.

I didn’t notice before but yeah, Ally does roll die like a f-ing beyblade champion.

Emily hearing Murph’s low key, offhand comments and cracking up is great.

“Get Sondheim!” (Emily and then Ally: WHAT?!)

Actual living dude Stephen Sondheim being involved in this fight is just so ridiculous and fun and crazy.

We go around to Misty’s turn and she has to beat a 28 (upped from 10) and she fails which feels worse than a normal failed death save somehow.

Lou, in a very good RP move, tells Pete to tell Misty to end the show so she can tell them not to so the group has a valid reason to not evacuate which is a thing they (or at least him and Ricky) would obviously want to do.

Sophie, the madwoman, jumps out of the balcony, grabs a costume, then runs on stage. Emily’s glee at being told that her grabbing the costume will give her advantage is great. She’s always trying to figure out how to make the most of her moves. She is the living embodiment of the concept of method to madness (which is from Hamlet since we’re talking Shakespeare today). 

Ox is constantly dying (Brennan!) but also it’s like, why was he even there before the fight started? I’ve never seen a non-service dog in a theater.

Ricky: Is this part of it?

Oh, forgot to mention that everything that happens on stage is kinda shielded by the Umbral Arcana so everyone watching thinks it’s part of the show, which is a cool plot detail.

Ricky gets fULLY NAKED (Emily, with perfect comic timing: Now do I roll with disadvantage?) and leaps into the fray. He casts Protection from Evil and Good on her which (1) He does by Magic Mike body-rolling on her while he’s naked and considering how much shorter she is that her raises some interesting questions about positioning and (2) is the most clutch use of this spell I’ve seen in a while. It’s a spell I always wanna take as a Paladin because it makes sense character-wise, but I’ve never been able to actually use it because we’re never fighting fiends, fae, or celestial.

Brennan’s dime change change reversal of the critic’s comments on Ricky’s body rolls when Zac re-rolls his 11 makes me glad I never had to face him in a debate team setting.

Ally: What’s Esther’s deal ;)/Brennan: *Esther’s Weapon Stats*

“Your only secret you’ve ever had in your life is that you have a crush on her.”

Wally has a beautiful singing voice and a working knowledge of Midsummer's which is wild.

Lou’s periodic, “My man”’s when Ally/Pete does something cool. He’s very dialed into being Kingston.

Ricky’s aura keeps everyone near him from being charmed and Misty saves everyone else w/ a nat 20 counterspell. Few things in D&D are more satisfying than a well executed counterspell.

Titania trying to get Pete to be her consort or something when he just over the super posh Priya is very funny.

“I mean between me and Sondheim, get Sondheim!”

“DO WE HAVE HOMEWORK TONIGHT?” (“We did have homework.”)

Anyway, Misty has one success now!

Misty tries to use puppet to get Titania to drop her crown and it doesn’t work. Brennan says the crown is Crown of Stars which I looked up and it’s actually a spell, not a physical crown, but I’m assuming he used the mechanical effects of the spell on a physical item.

Brennan doing all these musical/singing bits when he absolutely doesn’t have to. I love it.

I love Ricky and Sophie being the two martial fighting heavy hitters of the group. Like, the two fighters, having the spellcasters’ backs.

I hope the one kung fu fan in the back of the theater never sees another Broadway show again because he’s gonna be so disappointed. 

“I’m just so inspired by that beautiful penis.”

Murph, out of character, verbally acknowledging how insane what they’re doing is. I love when someone pauses in a game of D&D to just recite what’s currently happening out of context so everyone can appreciate how crazy it is. D&D. Gotta love it..

Emily and Siobhan have a quick conversation in the background about whether Sondheim did Les Mis or not (not, that’s Claude-Michel Schönberg) while Brennan and Murph are Ring nonsense.

I also was mildly suspicious of Alyssa so I’m glad Kingston checked her out.

The entire roast of Brennan when he’s selecting D6s is an instantly iconic D20 moment. I can’t do it justice. You kinda just have to see it.

“Someone call Wizards of the Coast!”

Em, Wally, and Alyssa go out when Titania puts out a huge spell that blinds Kug.

“Yummy, yummy, tastes like ass.”

On Misty’s next turn, she rolls a fail which makes it 2 failures to 1 success. Brennan mentions that a nat 1 counts as 2 failures and a nat 20 counts as 2 successes. I’m sure that won’t be relevant later because you can’t foreshadow things when dice rolls are completely random.

Misty fails on puppet again again and Titania goes full Wicked Witch of the West on her and starts Jonesing for those shoessss.

Emily’s Emily(tm) move of the session is doing a flying leap at Titania, hitting her with a stunning strike and having Brennan retract the Box off Doom he was pulling out because she can’t save when she’s stunned. She just plummets out of the sky.

Don Confetti respecting the sacrament of marriage as he goes full Opera ghost and tries to garrote Sophie.

Ricky (still naked) grabs the crown from Titania, tosses it to Misty, and, with some improv and a good charisma roll, makes the show suddenly make sense to the very confused but entertained audience.

I’m so glad that Murph decided to turn into a bear and that they made the Winter’s tale ref. I should have had faith in Brennan and Siobhan, the theater nerds. Exit pursued by a bear y’all.

Lou and Emily bonding over being proud of their die for rolling well when they lend it out for a big roll.

Really wish Pete had wild magic surged in this fight. Just to add that extra bit of chaos. 

With a very good turn (no damage taken, no performances failed) Misty only has to avoid snake eyes to get through this turn. She leapfrogs over that low bar and rolls a nat 20, instantly fulfilling her win condition. At this point, the play is superfluous and Titania is still down.

“Brennan lost and now he knows reddit is gonna eat his ass.”

OK, remember how I said earlier that Misty seems like the kind of character you nudge a little temptation at just to spice things up? Yeah, her killing Titania and getting the crown of the Seelie Fae makes me a liiiitle apprehensive, but we’ll see how that turns out.

“I killed my queen! This is America we don’t have royalty here.”

“Bear, I don’t know who you are, but take me on your back, let me ride on stage.” —creator of West Side Story, Stephen Sondheim

Misty charms the critic at the show to make sure they get a good review which is such a fae thing to do.

Kingston’s clearly not loving attacking Don and Co. post “real fight” what with his whole Do No Harm thing (well, that’s Dr’s but same principle applies I assume) is a good character detail. For that matter, so is Ricky just taking Titania’s crown and not beheading her which he super could have done while she was down but it would have been very incongruous with everything else about him.

Brian “This isn’t Loony Tunes” Murphy throws Sondheim as a projectile weapon at a pixie who snaps the pixie’s neck and then does a monologue at the audience.

I love it when someone rolls low on an insight check and Brennan gives them useless info and then they repeat it in their character’s voice.

4 mins from the end of the ep, Siobhan realizes there are two Perrys in this story for the first time and has a bigger reaction to that than almost everything else in this ep except her nat 20.

Ricky looks for costume faun legs to cover his fully out dick instead of costume pants or even his own pants.

Misty starts glowing with reincarnation energy and she runs into her dressing room for privacy. Also, she still super hasn’t told anyone what’s going on. (ALSO, assuming she’s gonna make the world think she died, it’s gonna be wild for the company of the show to have their leading lady put on the performance of her life and then die on opening night).

“Who am I to refuse a crown when it’s placed so deftly upon my head?”

You know that behind the scenes thing where Brennan is like, “Yeah, I knew Siobhan was gonna steal that book,”? I got some of those vibes during the crown scene.

The implications of what Misty did are gonna be left until next ep but Brennan says something about her creating her own court and it looks like she’s recruiting followers in the promo. IDK how I feel about that (these stories tend to have great power--especially tied to powerful magical items--as a corrupting force) but I am very excited to see how it goes down! See you then!

#the unsleeping city #dimension 20 #asks #galfast

[pennswoodsman]

It’s like coming out of the closet.

As a cannabis user for the past 2 decades, the last 2 years have been revolutionary. I got high for the first time with my friend Bill back in 1992. I got drunk for the first time with my friend John around the same time. I got violently ill with alcohol but I had a blast with cannabis. I knew almost right away that cannabis was going to be my intoxicant of choice. This left me with a major stigma, of course. I had to spend the next 24 years not sure how people would react to my choice of getting intoxicated to relax at night. I got a lot of shit from a whole lot of people. People who said I “did drugs”. Effectively putting me on the same level as a heroin or Crystal meth abuser. In college, being a cannabis user meant that I sometimes ended up meeting actual junkies. I had absolutely nothing in common with these people other than we enjoyed a schedule 1 drug. Mine was less dangerous than alcohol while theirs was the worst of the worst. Yet, we ended up in the same circle due to me not being able to purchase it any other way. I hated that. I resented that. 

Things like making friends always had the possibility of being judged, scoffed at and looked at with total scorn. At West Chester and Ferrum, I used to attend parties full of drunken idiots, but often got dirty looks from people for being the one smoking a bowl instead of drinking. I was generally banned from smoking in someone’s house, which I totally get. It is illegal and they don’t want to get in trouble. Ferrum also had a “zero tolerance drug policy”. Which meant you would get in just as much trouble for a joint than you would for heroin.  At least on paper. Drinking, of course, was totally normal and could take place right in the open. 

On many occasions, I have been made to feel shame by someone who loves to drink by the implication that their way of getting intoxicated was better than mine, theirs was fun and harmless, where as mine was evil and dangerous. a few examples come to mind. One was my best friend’s brother in law’s ex wife.  She was a major drinker and all her stories on Facebook revolved around her getting totally trashed at pubs every night  or being so hung over the following day she could barely function. One time I suggested switching to cannabis and she got ridiculously offended with a “I don’t do that shit.  I might like to drink, but I don’t touch drugs!!” This is a typical response (not to mention ironic as she is now a crystal meth addict). Another time I was at a pub with 2 friends of Bill’s near his old apartment. Bill had left to do something so I was hanging out with these other 2.  One of them was a single woman named Erin. She was really attractive and I was really doing my best to work up the nerve to try to engage her in conversation. The problem was she and the guy were both big drinkers and all of their stories were about drinking. Literally. I was waiting for the subject to change to a topic I could add something too.  But it never presented itself. So, even though I knew it could backfire, I brought up stories of mine about cannabis. I stopped telling stories revolving around it’s use alone ages ago, but I wanted to fit in, and get her attention. They both seemed less than impressed but didn’t say anything. The following day I was talking to Bill on the phone and he told me his buddy said I was “totally sweating Erin” which was true. But, she was really turned off by my use of cannabis and how I “kept bringing it up”. Meanwhile I was all “Say whaaaa?!” When I say all of their stories that night were about drinking, I mean there was literally not a single story they told that wasn’t about drinking, yet I was the weirdo druggie who wouldn’t stop telling boring stories about getting the reefer madness. 

In my experience, it was usually women who judged me the most about it. Or at least their judgement is the one I heard about the most (maybe because I didn’t give a fuck what the dudes thought, as I wasn’t trying to date them). Even Tammy said back in the early 2000s that it was something that was fine to “experiment” with when you’re a teen, but once you “grow up” you give it up. I asked her what was that based on, she just shrugged and said it’s just how she feels.  Fair enough, but it still struck me as illogical as the thing you do as a “grown up” is far more dangerous, and tends to make you act way more childish when intoxicated.  But, again, there was no arguing with “marra-jah-wanna is an illegal drug and alcohol is a time honored way to socialize”.  The worst of those arguments for me was with my buddy Anthony’s wife Colleen. She has open contempt for cannabis users and had no problem getting in my face about it at every opportunity (in addition to getting in my face about Israel and how Jews are criminals, then flipping out if you respond by bringing up Northern Ireland. But that’s a rant for another day). Her contempt reached a whole new level at a Halloween party at my house back in 2004. I was talking to someone else about growing my own cannabis. She started to get in my face about being a “drug user” and how it’s destroying society. I asked her how was I hurting anyone by smoking it on my back porch at night after work? She started to say that it hurts children because when I buy it from the dealer, I’ll smoke up with him right in front of his children (which I sure as fuck have never done), that it changes people’s personality for the worse (but alcohol did not, according to her) it destroys families and in order to get my drugs, it has to be smuggled by evil drug cartels who murder innocent people “because of people like YOU”. When I tried to say that’s why cannabis should be legal, taking the power out of the hands of the evil cartels, she laughed and said “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard”. She has a brother who is a criminal. Among many other things he did illegally, he sold weed.  His adolescent daughters ended up in foster care with her and Anthony due to him being in prison at the time. To me, this was the worst of anecdotal evidence. She seemed to think all cannabis users are guilty this happened. Not that her brother was a total sociopath. That was 15 years ago and she is one of those people that I’m willing to bet you would still double down on this sentiment, as she pretty much will never admit to being wrong. Even once various states began to legalize it’s use and almost everything I said would happen happened (drug cartels losing huge amounts of money, tax revenue going to help social programs, victimless crimes not wasting the police’s time, and no, it’s not going to result in everyone getting stoned 24/7, for a few examples) it all didn’t matter. She sure as hell doesn’t have to listen to anything a stupid druggie says. As we’re all a bunch of doped up liars who only care about our own pleasure. All that being said, there have been plenty of men who have judged me harshly too.  I always suspected my old buddy Mike and I drifted apart due to his attitude about cannabis (among other things). Although it’s kind of funny that his wife enjoys it, gave it up after college because it’s illegal. Then he was shocked when she said she would resume using it when it’s fully legal. 

This is all not to mention the shit my mother used to give me about it. She was the only one who was worse than Colleen...at least towards me. 

Other examples:

My ex-GF Nina one time was openly showing contempt when I made some remark about still smoking in my 50s.  She said “wait, you are planning to still be smoking weed in your 50s?!” I was all “Yea.  Why not? Why does that matter?!” She responded with something to the extent of “You never plan to grow up?!” This was at the end of our relationship and she started off the relationship with not caring about cannabis use but by the end she was always giving me shit about it. To a point where I was uncomfortable even bringing it up, because it would result in a long boring holier than thou rant about how bad it is, grow ups don’t use it, etc. I was not upset when we broke up.

My Ex-GF Lisa wasn’t too bad about it in that she didn’t bring it up very often. I just promised I would never be high when we were together, a promise I always kept. Her late father had spent time in prison on Moonshining charges and she admitted that there wasn’t that much of a difference.  But alas, it’s a “drug” and alcohol is legal. Therefore one is immoral and one is just fine. Very cut and dry.

When my soon to be ex-wife was having an affair with he who shall not be named, he used my cannabis usage as another way to show my inferiority to him.  He was a dysfunctional alcoholic, but what I did was only for hippie idiots so therefore it was only logical to have open contempt for me.

My late mother used to referred to my father’s cannabis use as our family’s “dirty little secret”. Very effectively attaching shame and guilt to it’s use...which was totally her intention. She also always referred to it as “dope” and “drugs”. She would always accuse me of being high even when I wasn’t. She would go out of her way to try to catch me (if I was coming home late, she would wait up, even if my friends were with me, so she could tell me my “eyes look funny” or “I’m acting funny”. I’ll leave it at that, as I have a lot of issues with my late mother and the way she treated me like a criminal for cannabis use.

But, it’s dramatic policy change in our country has led to a dramatic attitude change. Last week, I got attitude from a woman who was a drinker who acted like I was a druggie for owning a medical card but didn’t drink, but this attitude is becoming the exception rather than the rule. Before, I couldn’t even add it to my online dating profile because I had to always assume it was an instant turn off...even though it would be something that they would find out about eventually.  Thank freakin’ god.

#cannabis #ganja #legalize it #420 #stigma

[jonsafan-blog]

House of the Undying and Valyrian Daggers

As expected, the prophecy is coming true. Discusses leaks later in the post.

Daenerys walks into the throne room and it is covered in snow/ashes. We now know that is snow. She puts down a torch, and I didn’t realize this before but I think that was foreshadowing she was going to burn it. She approaches the throne but does not sit on it. Then she hears her dragons and departs from the throne room.

My analysis of this scene after the fact is that Daenerys will never really be queen. She won’t stop and rebuild... because we know she is beyond that. She doesn’t see the people of Westeros as people. She can’t liberate people who are already liberated... merely conquer them and cause them fear.

She hears the call of her dragons... because it is the dragons that inspire her. However, my belief is that she will try to fight Jon in the next episode, politically or militarily, and what we are hearing is the dance of dragons.

That conflict will lead to her doom.

Daenerys goes under the Wall and crosses to the other side. It’s whiteout winter over there and she shivers. Then she sees a dothraki hut like the one she shared with Drogo. She enters it, and suddenly it’s like she’s on the Dothraki sea because it is clearly warm outside. She’s in her happy place. And guess who is there? Khal Drogo and Rhaego. Aww. He calls her the “moon of my life.” The rest of their conversation is in Dothraki.

She can’t believe it. She replies, “This is dark magic, like the magic that took you from me.” She approaches, uncertain and adds, “Took you from me before I could even...”

But then Daenerys changes. She’s happy and says: “Maybe I am dead and I just don't know it yet. Maybe I am with you in the Night Lands."

Khal Drogo looks up at her and replies, “Or maybe I refused to enter the Night Lands without you. Maybe I told the Great Stallion to go fuck himself and came back here to wait for you.”

Daenerys smiles. “That sounds like someone you would do,” she says.

She looks down at her baby, and Khal Drogo softly says, “Or maybe it is a dream. Your dream, my dream... I do not know.”

Khal Drogo is about to kiss her. “These are questions for wise men with skinny arms.” And then, “You are the moon of my life. That is all I know and need to know.”

Daenerys is starting to break emotionally as Drogo continues. “And if this is a dream... I will kill the man who tries to wake me.”

They touch foreheads. Daenerys looks at Rhaego. Dragons cry in the background. Daenerys begins to cry as she restates what Mirri Maz Duur reminded her of, but this time in the common tongue: “Until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. Until the rivers run dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves.”

She walks away. Drogo is devastated.

Analyzing this I know why the final book is called A Dream for Spring. It’s not about the seasonal spring... it’s about the future Daenerys longed for herself... and it’s only a dream. It’s her realization that her dreams of the future are not going to happen which drives her mad.

But in the context of the show... here are my predictions.

When Daenerys “goes under” and “crosses the other side” it is referring to two possibilities: 1) She dies. 2) She crosses the line. Hell and immorality are implied in both, and when she goes Beyond the Wall she is becoming the Queen of the Ashes instead of Westeros.

Remember, the “snow” on the throne wasn’t snow at all... it was ashes from the city she burned down. Daenerys is fully accepting that part of herself by choosing to go under and cross to the other side.

That said, there is more to this vision, and it’s the Dothraki part which causes me to splinter on possibilities rather significantly.

We have leaks, but narratively... and based on the books... we have two destinies for Daenerys: she dies in a normal way... or she dies and comes back as the Night Queen.

What?

Oh, I got book evidence for the second one, but for the first, the leaks are pretty clear about what is going to happen: Jon eventually stabs Daenerys because his family will never be safe. Beyond that there is some uncertainty about what happens. It could be a fairly banal ending in which the story is pretty much over at that point.

Or...

Daenerys becomes the Night Queen.

There is some weird inkling of another leak, and given a leak almost noone discusses about a dothraki hut being built for the season yet not appearing in the show so far, I want to talk about my wild theory. It’s kind of bananas, but I’ve been waiting for the House of the Undying ash vision to be confirmed to share it with you.

So other leaks have stated it’s possible that Drogon carries Daenerys body beyond the wall. Jon feels so guilty for what he did that he goes into exile at or beyond the wall. Also, Bran states there must always be a night king.

For this wild theory to happen a few things must occur which nobody has discussed:

Arya is in King’s Landing.

Arya’s dagger is in King’s Landing.

A godswood is in King’s Landing.

Do you see where I am going with this?

What is Jon is given Arya’s dagger... and he kills her in the charred Godswood because BranTree DIDN’T EXPLAIN WHY ARYA HAD TO STAB THE NIGHT KING WITH THAT SWORD... but we keep being reminded of it as an audience.

Drogon takes Daenerys because Daenerys is alive-dead, and goes beyond the wall because that’s what Night Kings/Queens do to build their army.

AND OH GOD THE WILDLINGS ARE UP THERE. And so is the broken wall.

But time to settle down and talk about the book connections.

Because they are fucking interesting.

I am not even exaggerating.

Time for a primer on Dothraki religion! Or rather, religion in general.

I’m not kidding.

So there is one theory most people believe D&D dropped the ball on. And given the leaks seem kind of light on what happens next episode, perhaps Azor Ahai hasn’t happened yet. Perhaps Jon wasn’t supposed to kill that Night King, but Daenerys Night Queen.

So the Lord of Light has this great enemy called the Great Other... a god of death, cold, and darkness. The Lord of Light and the Great Other fight a continuous battle with each other over the fate of the world (A Song of Ice and Fire). Melisandre calls the White Walkers “cold children” in the books.

Are you getting chills? I’m not even to the Dothraki part, I’m building up to it.

We know that Craster sacrificed his sons to the White Walkers, and we know that the Weirwood trees are somehow connected to the White Walker’s creation.

There is also book evidence which suggests Melisandre sees Bran being tempted his teacher towards darkness as leaves flow in the wind. He is reminded the trees are rooted into the darkness and will make him strong like mother’s milk.

Who created the Night King in the show?

The Children of the Forest... who I believe are servants of the Great Other. They carved the trees and signed the Pact for peace between the Children and the First Men, leading the First Men to adopt their religion.

That said, it seems to be implied in the books that the Children and the First Men worked to defeat the White Walkers in the book the first time around, so it is possible that the Children had no idea they were serving an evil God.

When the Andals invaded Westeros, they burned down the Weirwood trees as much as they could, and the Pact ended, though the First Men still followed this clearly evil religion without realizing it.

The Andals believe in the Seven, which like the Christian is one God in seven forms. There is also a Lord of the Seven Hells who performs black arts. I think it is just another iteration of Lord of Light vs. Great Other, and the Lord of Light used the Andals to invade Westeros and try to stop the spread of the Old God religion.

Now let’s get closer to what the Dothraki believe now that it is obvious we are setting up a Lord of Light vs. Great Other fight.

Essos actually has children of the forest. They are called the Ifequevron. They lived in the Forest of Ifequevron just north of the Dothraki sea. The Dothraki did not attack them either out of respect or fear. It is believed they were wiped out by the Ibbense, and once the Ifequevron disappeared, the Dothraki began attacking the Ibbense.

They left one city that the Dothraki call the “City of Ghosts” and people that have visited report seeing trees with carved faces.

Weird how the Dothraki didn’t attack them... super weird.

Maybe because they weren’t supposed to.

But onto Dothraki religion:

They worship a horse god and Dothraki aren’t worth anything unless they can ride a horse. Their god is called the “Great Stallion.” When someone times, their god parts the grass and claims the deceased for his khalasar so the dead can ride with them in the nightlands.

What.

What.

What.

So we know that there is a Great Other who is the god of the dead. We also know Melisandre clearly believes the White Walkers are enemies. The Night King joined the dead to his own khalasar - a nomadic horde. And together they rode into the Long Night... Yeah. Not a coincidence.

One important function of khalasars is that when a khal dies, the groups underneath him (but no bloodriders) either fight to claim it or break apart on their own. I believe that with the Night King dead, if that wild theory is true... Daenerys becoming a White Walker is just part of the Great Other’s plan to replace his general of death.

But I’m just not done yet.

In Daenerys’s vision, she is called the “moon” of Khal Drogo’s life. She is the wife to the sun - which is a star. And I believe the Dothraki are wrong about it being the sun or that the meaning is lost in translation.

Interestingly, the others have a story about a Night King who was bewitched by a Night Queen who had skin as pale as the moon.

Oh to Dothraki death beliefs and funeral customs.

According to the Dothraki, stars are horses made of fire and the starry sky is a great herd of fiery horses running across the sky. These stars are dead Dothraki. The more fierce the Dothraki, the brighter the star.

When a horselord dies, a horse is slain so it can be mounted in death. These dothraki are then burned beneath the open sky. If a child dies before they are old enough to ride, they will instead be reborn to begin life anew.

Drogo was burned to custom: a square made of wood is positioned with the khal’s horse in the middle. Over the horse, another platform is constructed. This platform is laid east to west, from sunrise to sunset. It has three levels. The third levels is set north to south. On that level, the khal is placed with his head in the direction of the Mother of Mountains. His body is only burned when the first star has been seen in the sky.

Why did I give you all those details?

Oh boy.

Guys. I’ve been holding this crazy theory in for a while. I’m not holding back.

So let’s consider for a moment the Mirri Maz Duur prophecy... which we were reminded of in Daenerys’s House of the Undying prophecy and in the last season in the dragon pit.

Let’s remember context: Daenerys wasn’t asking about when she would bear another child... but when Drogo would be able to ride a horse again - thus be a khal again.

Mirri said: "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before."

Now a popular theory and not one I discount because of Daenerys’s similarities to Cersei is that she will become pregnant. However, Daenerys is going to die or she’s going to destroy the world. But that’s not the point of my funeral description.

George R. R. Martin gave those details for a reason.

First, Khal Drogo was burned when the first star rose in the sky... and that was the red comet. That’s what happened in the books, though the show was slightly different (because none of these fine details are shared) and it doesn’t show up until season 2.

However, the show did point out it meant dragons... but back to the pyre and the prophecy.

Drogo’s second platform was laid east to west, from sunrise to sunset. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.” But Drogo died unable to ride a horse... so I believe he didn’t go to the nightlands... I believe he was reborn... as Drogon. Rhaego as Rhaegal. And Viserys, who had to walk because of his crimes against Daenerys for hitting her, was reborn as Viserion.

Okay, that last one is a little silly and I’m mostly joking.

That said, Drogo was reborn on a pyre. That red comet was him rising in the west and setting in the east (dying). He was then reborn into Drogon.

From there, “When the seas go dry” Daenerys left the Dothraki sea for the Red Waste. But the “mountains blow in the wind like leaves” is meant to represent something happening in Westeros. For Daenerys to go west, first she must go east... which she did. Then she went west and the White Walkers came like leaves in the wind.

It’s possible Daenerys becomes pregnant again, but I believe what Mirri’s snide statement is really stating is an unintended prophecy. She will become the Stallion Who Mounts the World.

According to Dothraki prophecy in the books:

As swift as the wind he rides, and behind him his khalasar covers the earth, men without number, with arakhs shining in their hands like blades of razor grass. Fierce as a storm this prince will be. His enemies will tremble before him, and their wives will weep tears of blood and rend their flesh in grief. The bells in his hair will sing his coming, and the milk men in the stone tents will fear his name. The prince is riding, and he shall be the stallion who mounts the world.

The Dothraki also believe in something called “Ghost Grass” which sounds a bit like snow though it is actually a plant rumored to glow with the spirits of the dead. It is supposed to cover the whole world... and that’s how it ends.

But the Stallion Who Mounts the World? The one Mirri tried to stop?

Daenerys brought the largest army in the world to Westeros - including a Dothraki arakh army - like razor grass. He would be “fierce as a storm” like Daenerys Stormborn. Enemies will tremble (like Jon). The Bells... the fucking bells will sing his coming. Or Daenerys coming.

God damn it. I believe my crazy theory...  okay? I can see the books ending this way.

Anyway, the milk men (pale people like Westerosi) in their stone tents (hey, castles!) will fear his name.

The Stallion is also supposed to bring everyone into his khalasar... which is what Daenerys basically intends to do. The Great Other is doing this by killing everyone... and Daenerys seems like an enticing general.

Essentially, I believe the Dothraki had similar beliefs as the Ifequeron like the First Men did with the Children of the Forest. Only their beliefs morphed to it Essos. Because they bring death, I think they are actually worshippers of the Great Other whom they call the Great Stallion.

But if Daenerys is the Stallion Who Mounts the World and works for the Great Other... who is supposed to fight against her?

I dunno. Maybe the man the Lord of Light brought back from the dead for some weird reason.

The Last Hero and Azor Ahai are not the same person, just like the Andal Seven are not the same as them. Details on them are pretty light so I won’t get into. They are all iterations of the fight between the Lord of Light and the Great Other though. They may not have even happened in the same places. There may be more.

So let’s look at what happened.

The Last Hero is a Westerosi tradition happening during the Long Night.

 Yet here and there in the fastness of the woods, the children still lived in their wooden cities and hollow hills, and the faces in the trees kept watch. So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds –

This was alluded to in the Wight Hunt, but it’s possible some iteration could happen again briefly. If Jon goes North, he will have “a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions.”

Azor Ahai goes a bit like this:

Darkness lay over the world and a hero, Azor Ahai, was chosen to fight against it. To fight the darkness, Azor Ahai needed to forge a hero's sword. He labored for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. However, when he went to temper it in water, the sword broke. He was not one to give up easily, so he started over.

The second time he took fifty days and fifty nights to make the sword, even better than the first. To temper it this time, he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart, but once more the steel shattered.

The third time, with a heavy heart, for he knew beforehand what he must do to finish the blade, he worked for a hundred days and nights until it was finished. This time, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, and asked her to bare her breast. He drove his sword into her living heart, her soul combining with the steel of the sword, creating Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

Although he had Lightbringer, Azor Ahai did not fight alone. The Jade Compendium mentions that when the hero thrust the blade through a monster, the creature burst into flame.

There are similarities to the last one. It’s possible that a Valyrian sword cannot kill a Night King or Queen, merely the sword that created them underneath a Godswood. 

It’s possible that the present timeline is mirroring the defeats or lack of personal involvement Jon has had in defeating his enemies: He could not fight the darkness himself, and it took a water dancer to end the Night King. Then he went to fight the Lannisters, but the Lannisters brought destruction upon themselves and died holding onto each other.

The third conflict, Jon will succeed in defeating his enemy because he will kill Daenerys (his Nissa Nissa). But in killing her, he powers the dagger which will later be used against the monster she becomes, and the “burst into flame” is likely alluding to the fact he will be killing Drogon.

As for the dream... perhaps when someone becomes a wight or a White Walker they are tricked into a dream they never wake up from. As Daenerys is destroying the world as the Night Queen, she thinks she is back with Drogo and Rhaego in the Nightlands.

But none of these very discrete details would ever play out in a single episode, at best just some of them, and I am just reviewing them to highlight that Book Daenerys may be on her path to becoming a White Walker herself if Jon uses that god damn dagger.

And we know he is going to stab her. And we know the leaks aren’t long enough to tell us what happens next episode.

So maybe a really unexpected twist happens and Jon accidentally creates another damn Night King and he has to put the monster down.

#jonsa #anti-daenerys #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire

[vhaven93-blog]

On Will and Karma

ON WILL AND KARMA

By Daniel Allen Kelley

There's a widespread assumption that when someone discovers his or her True Will, everything falls into place and obstacles are magically removed.

I used to believe this too...

But I've discovered over the years that this assumption isn't only wrong, but the opposite of the truth. I'm reminded of a discovery made by a man some years ago regarding butterflies. He noticed that a certain species of butterfly struggled disproportionately more when emerging from its cocoon than other butterflies do. So, on one particular occasion, he decided that he'd gently slice open the cocoon of one such butterfly, so as to ease its struggle. To his surprise, the butterfly died soon after it emerged. So he repeated this experiment several more times, and each time he did so the butterfly perished. As it turns out, Nature evolved this struggle so as to strengthen the butterfly's wings for flight. So when this struggle is cut short, and the butterfly emerges from its cocoon prematurely, it can't fly. Consequently, the poor insect dies either from starvation or by becoming a predators next meal.

The plight of the butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon is analogous to the human being's discovery of his True Will. You see, before we discover, and make the commitment to honor, our True Nature, we cultivate various personae to serve as Stewards in its absence. We then build our lives around these personae. We make decisions, form relationships, choose career paths, inculcate various axioms to govern opinions and behaviors, all around a loose net of surrogate selves.

But then we wake up.....

Sometimes the discovery of our True Nature happens but we don't actively engage or embody it. Why? Because to do so isn't without its risks and dangers. Sometimes those risks can even prove fatal! Socrates was given hemlock to drink. Jesus was told to drag his own cross up to the top of Golgotha and was crucified to it. John Kennedy was shot in the head while sitting next to his wife. Martin Luther King Jr. suffered a similar fate.

And the list goes on and on...

The moment you make the concious choice to honor your True Will, you immediately come into conflict with the established structure erected by your unawakened self. And it is due to this adversity that many people retreat back into their former personae. But now this decision is made with the conscious understanding that this is a lie. From this lie comes resentment. From resentment is born hatred. And from hatred is born depression. And this is finally capped by contempt. Research has proven time and again that it's contempt, and not hatred, that finally destroys a life, corrupts a soul, and eradicates empires.

So what to do when you decide to honor your Truth but clash with former structures?

First, take full accountability for them. One of the fastest ways to take the wind out of your sails is to shift responsibility away from yourself. I've learned this lesson the hardest way a man can learn it. Even if you have sound reasons for blaming others, take full accountability anyway. Look at it this way: If the responsibility rests with you, then your bodymind creates the energy needed to bear it. But if you point away from yourself, you inadvertently place your power into the hands of someone else.

Which brings me to the topic of Karma.

Karma is a very misunderstood concept in the West. The word Karma means "work". It doesn't mean "revenge" or "justice". And the real gist of what karma is revealed itself to me as a result of taking full accountability, not for the actions of others, but for my reactions to them. This started to articulate itself to me shortly after the birth of my daughter, but only recently have I reached a point where I feel confident enough to discuss it with other people. You can look at Karma this way:

There are some games that people play with themselves and eachother that they only win if you participate. And this is especially important with regards to the games one plays on oneself. For example: Let's say I'm thinking of some traumatic episode from my past. Now, all know how that story goes. You start off by thinking of the event, then that memory triggers a negative emotion, which leads to an unending chain of bad memories. And instead of doing the smart thing and simply allowing the emotions themselves to temporarily take center stage, without repressing or expressing or feeding them, but allowing them instead to self-liberate, we add our thoughts and opinions and rationalizations to the mix and generate KARMA in the form of a negative feedback loop of a bad mood, taking it out on others, and forging new bad experiences that become new bad memories.

The same thing happens in our dealings with other people. If someone insults you, and instead of laughing it off or calmly asserting that you won't stand for it and then ignoring the person, or whatever, you instead lash out and compound the problem, the now you've decided to play the same toxic game and Karma is generated.

So a big part about embodying your highest Values in a world that doesn't recognize that version of you, is re-educating yourself on how to pick and choose your battles. Personally, I find that there are indeed times when you must shout and make your stand against tyranny or evil. But more common is the situation where you simply don't respond in the manner in which you used to. Instead, supplant every negative impulse and response with a positive one. For example, when I decided to honor my highest Values, I noticed that my social anxiety vanished. See, when the anxiety dominated my life, I'd allow many opportunities to slip away. Now, there's a confidence there that wasn't there before. So when I feel myself responding in the old way, I actively use that energy to seek out and engage an opportunity that I'd previously let slip away. This has the effect of defusing the negative impulse.

So remember: Even if you lose the whole world as a result of discovering your soul, choose your soul over the world. You'll soon find that the parts of the world that reject you are doing you a favor. Don't engage! If you remain true to yourself, the Helper will come. I've seen people lose everyone and everything and still hold true to themselves. As a result, they end up with more opportunities and supporters than they previously thought possible. Against all odds, they stayed the course. Eventually, this creates a positive feedback loop and opportunities increase exponentially. If you ask these people, they'll tell you that there were countless times they wanted to give up, or even kill themselves. Betrayed by people they thought were friends. Cheated on by their wife or husband. Shunned by their kids. Their body falling apart. Innumerable sleepless nights spent staring through eyes filled with tears at the bedroom ceiling. But they stayed true to themselves and endured.

So ask yourself: What are my highest values? Who am I REALLY? What's the highest target I can aim at that I stand a moderate chance of hitting if I really strive to hit it?

Then focus on it with unwavering concentration....

One powerful ally for me has been a sense of humor. If you can laugh at yourself you've really got a superpower there! Life is tragedy touched by malevolence, of that there can be no doubt. But if you can still manage to crack a joke about it, even in the darkest hour, you've attained something great. I'm still learning this as I go too. It's one of the most difficult things for me, because the melancholy that hits me can be VERY overwhelming. Who knows? Maybe we'll meet eachother on the Path someday, and add a few smiles to this sea of frowns.

Hoc Opus Hic Labor Est

[imjustthemechanic]

Our Own Demons

Part 1/? - A Bolt from the Blue Part 2/? - A Different World

What if Tony Stark really were the villain of the Marvel universe?  How would that work?  Tony himself is about to find out, as he battles his inner demons (and some outer ones, too) across a multiverse of infinite possibilities.

The first thing Tony thought of was what the mysterious JANIS had just said: one hundred and seventy-eight Tonys Stark in the US.  It could be a coincidence… but now that he thought of it, this man also kind of looked like Tony.  His hair was a bit shorter, and showed the gray Tony dyed out.  He didn’t have the beard, although he hadn’t shaved in a day or so, either.  The nose was similar, and the furrows in the forehead, the eyes… he was about as tall as Tony would be without his lifts…

No, that was ridiculous.  Tony shook his head, trying to clear the idea out of it.  He’d seen some bullshit in his life, what with the Viking gods and the fire people and the Hulk, but those were one thing.  This was something else entirely.  There had to be a better explanation than that somehow there were suddenly two of them and one dressed like a slob.

“What’s your date of birth?” Tony asked.

“May twenty-ninth, 1970,” the other replied immediately.  The wrench was slowly coming down, but he still looked terrified – and now very confused.  “What’s your middle name?”

“Edward,” said Tony.  He cocked his head, looking for the little clue that would tell him this was a trick or a dream or an illusion.  Something.  “Parents?”

“Howard and Maria,” said the other.  “Ex-wife?”

Ah, there it was.  Tony exhaled.  “I’ve never been married,” he said.

The other went tense again, redoubling his grip on the wrench until his knuckles went white.

Tony rolled his eyes.  That did it – he had to get out of his.  “Will you just… I can’t talk to you when you might whack my head off at any moment.  Here.”  He approached cautiously, moving slowly and keeping his hands where the other could see them, and gently peeled the man’s fingers off the wrench and laid it down on a tabletop.  “There.  Better?”

“Who are you?” the other man asked.  He unhooked his glasses from his shirt and put them on, then squinted in apparent disbelief of what he saw through them.  “My evil twin?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if I had a twin, evil or otherwise,” Tony said.

“Evil mirror universe counterpart?” the other tried.  He took the glasses back off and started cleaning them on the hem of his shirt, as if that would help somehow.

“That’s… wait, what makes you think I’m the evil one?” asked Tony, frowning.

“You’re the one with the goatee,” the other pointed out.

“Spock was the one with the goatee, and he was the mirror universe character who wasn’t evil,” said Tony.

“That’s what my wife told me when I tried to grow one!  She said I looked like evil-Spock!” the other declared.  “She wouldn’t stop making fun of me until I shaved it!”

Tony held up both hands.  “Stop!” he ordered, “I don’t have time for this.  I have to get Pepper.”  If this man were Tony Stark in any sort of meaningful way, he would understand that.

“Pepper?” the man asked with a frown.  “What… I don’t know if you realize this, but you literally appeared out of nowhere a minute ago.”  He pointed to the wreckage of the suit, its pieces warped and its paint discoloured by… whatever had happened.  “Now you’re worried about seasoning?”

That settled it.  “I have to go,” Tony repeated.  He spotted the door next to the sofa – there was a poster hung on it, a reproduction of one advertising a car race in Monaco in 1936.  Tony went and tugged on the handle, but found it locked.  “Would you mind?” he asked the other.

The man stared at him a moment longer, then threw up his hands.  “Just… just open it, JANIS.”

There was a clunk, and the handle turned.

Tony didn’t spend a lot of time looking where he was going on his way out.  He thought a couple of people might nodded or waved to him, but he ignored them, marching up the stairs and down the unfamiliar hallways until he found a sign that said To 45th Street.  He followed that, and then paused for a moment before opening the door under the glowing red exit sign.  What would he find out there?  A mirror universe where east was west and up was down?  A world ruled by Loki and the Chi’Tauri, or a nuclear wasteland where nobody had gotten rid of the nuke?  Tony shut his eyes and took a deep breath, and pushed the door open to reveal…

East 45th Street, exactly as he remembered it.  There was the Helmsley building across the road.  On his left was the Starbucks and on his right was the Wells Fargo, and if Tony turned around, the building he’d just come out of would be Avengers Tower.  He was right back where he’d started.

It was a great relief, but it didn’t last.  When Tony looked up for confirmation, he got a nasty surprise.  The building behind him wasn’t Avengers Tower at all.  It was the old hexagonal skyscraper that had been there in 2005, the one he’d torn down to replace with something that would add a little more interest to the skyline.  Tony shut his eyes and shook his head, then looked again.  The view did not change.

His heart, which had so recently risen, sank again.  Maybe he was hallucinating.  Or maybe he’d somehow gone back in time… but no, that didn’t work.  Tony had never worked on suits in the Tower basement, and even if he had, he’d definitely have remembered being visited by his future self.  Maybe the other had been right when he’d suggested this was some kind of alternate universe.  Maybe it was all a bad dream, something his brain was making up to save him the terror of hitting a cornfield while wearing a nonfunctional suit.

“Excuse me!”  A woman pushed past, trundling a big wheeled suitcase.  “I’m late!”

That was enough to bring Tony out of his moment of shock.  He stepped out of the way to let her pass, then glanced up at the building again before straightening his jacket and heading back indoors.  None of this mattered – he had to call pepper.  If Tony had slipped into an alternate reality, maybe talking to Pepper would make that clear.  And if he hadn’t, then he would at least know she was all right.

The first time Tony had ever used a pay phone in his life was when he’d called Pepper at Christmas to let her know he wasn’t dead.  This time at least he was indoors and warm as he found a bank of phones in a corner of the train station and put a quarter in.  Like the Helmsley Building across the street, the inside of Grand Central Station looked reassuringly familiar – right down to the details of damage from the Battle of New York.  The wall and the roof had been patched up, and the terminal was crowded with commuters, but there was still scaffolding up and shops closed, and areas roped off as too dangerous to enter.  Tony could even still see the dent in the masonry where the Hulk and thrown Thor against the wall.

He dialed Pepper’s number.

“Please pick up this time,” he murmured as he punched the buttons.  “You have to have heard something by now.  Please.”  If she didn’t pick up this time, he decided, he would damned well hitchhike to California if that were what it took.  One way or another, he was going to track her down and make sure these nut cases in whatever was left of SHIELD didn’t touch her.

The phone rang once.

It rang twice.  Tony bit his lip.  Please.  Please!

It began to ring a third time – then there was a click, and a cautious, “hello?”

All the weird things that had happened in the past half hour were forgotten when Tony heard Pepper’s voice.  He was so relieved he nearly cried.  Whatever else was going on, Pepper was safe.  “Pep, it’s me,” he said.  “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” she replied.  “Is something wrong?”

“Is something… yes, something’s wrong!” Tony told her.  “Aren’t you watching the news?”  How could she not know?  Pepper was usually better-informed than that – sometimes better-informed than Tony was.  Even if she had other engagements, she ought to have heard something.

“I haven’t noticed anything,” she said, worried.  “What’s happening?”

“Long story,” Tony replied.  “Short version is that SHIELD’s full of Nazis and they just tried to kill everybody we know.  You and I,” he added, “are getting out of here.  You were right.  We’re leaving the country, immediately and indefinitely.  I’m gonna deal with this, but I need to know you’re out of harm’s way.”

A few seconds went by in silence.

“Who is this?” asked Pepper.

“What?  It’s me, Pep,” he insisted.  “It’s Tony.”  This was wrong.  This was even more wrong than what had just happened in Washington.  Maybe even more wrong than finding a beardless version of himself threatening him with a pipe wrench.  Pepper Potts couldn’t possibly just not know that it was Tony who was calling her, not in any reality.

“I thought it was,” she said.  “What are you talking about?  I’ve got the news on now and I don’t see anything about SHIELD.”

“Washington!” Tony insisted.  He was starting to feel ill.  “Where are you?”

“I’m in my office,” she replied, as if he ought to have known that.  “Where are you calling from?”

“Pay phone in Grand Central,” said Tony.  “Oh, shit.  Okay, let me explain.”  How he was going to explain something he didn’t understand,  he wasn’t sure, but he had to try.  “Something weird is going on.  I was flying out to California to get you when I… I don’t actually know what happened, but I ended up back here and there’s a guy who looks like me in the basement.”  Why was he telling her that?  Did he thought she would have an explanation for it?  “I’m going to figure this out,” Tony promised.  “Whatever is going on I will figure it out and fix it, but first I have to know you’re okay.”

“Tony,” Pepper said gently, “I’m honestly not finding anything about this.  Are you sure it wasn’t, I don’t know, a dream or something?”  She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “did you go home last night?  Or did you sleep in the lab again?”

Tony leaned on the phone booth wall and shut his eyes.  She thought he was crazy.  Nothing he’d just said had made any sense to her at all and she thought he was cracking up.  Maybe she was right.  Tony stood there silently for a moment, then set the receiver back in the cradle.  This had to be a bad dream.

“Okay,” he said aloud to himself.  “Let’s assume that I am in an alternate reality, and that I have somehow arrived at a point in my life where alternate reality seems like a reasonable hypothesis.”

If that were true, then the Pepper in this world was all right, but the Pepper back home might still be in danger.  He had to get to her, but to do that he’d need to figure out how he’d gotten here in the first place.  As it was, he didn’t have enough information to do that.  He could remember the suit systems going nuts, then pressure, then falling, but nothing in there told him what had actually caused it.

“I need a drink,” Tony decided.

He pushed himself away from the phone and walked up the length of the terminal until he spotted a little independent coffee shop.  Tony felt as if his brain, confronted with a problem unlike anything he’d ever faced before, had simply stopped and would need a shot of something to get it going again.  Alcohol would be preferable, but coffee would do.

He ordered it black and extra strong.  The barista, an elderly fellow with a mustache and big square glasses, smiled sympathetically as he poured it for him.  “Looking sharp today,” he observed.  “I like the beard.”

Tony glanced down at what he was wearing, then at the barista again.  “Thanks,” he said, and then something about the way the man talked made him ask, “do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do,” he scoffed.  “You’re Tony.  You’re in here all the time.  Are you supposed to be in disguise or something?”

I’m undercover,” Tony told him.

“Uh-huh.”

The man – his nametag said Stan – hadn’t yet told Tony how much he owed for the coffee.  Tony tossed a twenty on the counter and let him sort it out.  “How long would you say we’ve known each other?” he asked.

“A couple of years, I guess,” Stan said.  “Why?”

“Just curious.”  Tony stuffed his change in the charity box on the counter and tried to think what he could ask this man that might tell him something useful.  He supposed there was always the obvious.  “Does the name Iron Man mean anything to you?”

Stan grinned.  “That was on Jeopardy the other night!” he said.  “The fourth track from Black Sabbath’s 1971 album Paranoid: what is Iron Man!”  He looked very pleased with himself.

Tony stared at him for a moment.  “Is that a joke?” he asked.  There was a suit here – the other him had been working on a suit.  There had to be an Iron Man!

“No...” said Stan.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Tony.  “I’m fine.”  Funny… that was the most common lie he told, and right now it was less true than ever.

#fanfic #tony stark #iron man

[bbclesmis]

Interview: Dominic West, Lily Collins and David Oyelowo on the BBC's new adaptation of Les Miserables

Dominic West strides across a 19th century square packed with ­horses and carts, carriages, and authentic market stalls. Given he is playing Jean Valjean and this is a new version of Les Miserables, you half expect West to stop, ­remove his extravagant hat, and blast out the former convict’s famous tune, Bring Him Home. But this is a very different Les Miserables. It’s an ambitious six-part BBC drama adaptation that draws heavily on Victor Hugo’s 1862 novel – a tale of redemption and revolution, which, somewhat controversially, features no singing.

The story of a book

“It’s unrecognisable from the musical, to be honest,” admits West on set, after his scene is finished. “We’ve got six hours of television to tell the story of a book, which I think is the best I have ever read. It’s absolutely epic.”

Still, attempting a straight re-telling of Les Miserables is a gamble given how widely the musical, and Tom Hooper’s award-winning 2012 film, are adored. With atmospheric smoke billowing across Brussels’ picturesque Place du Beguinage – which stands in for Paris in the BBC version – director Tom Shankland admits that Les Miserables done “straight” could easily be serious and sombre. It is, as he puts it, “a story of characters going through unbearable events and then dying.”

But this is an adaptation by Andrew Davies – of Vanity Fair, Pride & Prejudice and War & Peace fame – so there’s a lightness of touch, wit and levity amid the tragedy and a youthfulness and freshness of tone, too.

Fantine steals the show

“People will be able to fall in love with the story all over again because we’re telling it in a completely different way,” adds Shankland. And nowhere is this more obvious than in the character of Fantine, played by Lily Collins. Any fans of the film will remember this tragic figure selling her hair and teeth to support her daughter. The scene Collins is about to shoot, however, sees Fantine hanging out with her girlfriends and having fun.

“I think what’s different about this is that you get to see Fantine have a good time,” she says. “In most other renditions you start at the bottom and she’s already suffering. But this shows what it would have been like to be surrounded by other young women. It’s a fun time, sunny, and I get to fall in love!”

It’s something of a relief, given Collins had to film the end of Fantine’s story first. “It was snowing, there was wind and rain, and I was wearing next to nothing,” she recalls. “My head was shaved, I had no teeth, and Fantine has to beg for her life. I had to go manic and be like an animal, almost, to get that scene right. There was no vanity involved; it was raw, visceral, grotesque, even. I had to leap at it, it was so intense.”

A modern retelling

Fantine’s character arc is probably the best indication of the ambition for this version of Les Miserables; intense and gut-wrenching, yet tender and engaging. It draws on all the best traditions of a BBC period drama, but is cinematic in scope, and never cosy.

“Some people have asked why we aren’t making a modern version of this story, but in some ways we are,” says West. “Valjean is like the best, baddest, strongest superhero. He’s done 20 years hard labour, he chooses the hard path every time because he wants to be a virtuous man. It’s hard to make a righteous person interesting, but the way Hugo wrote him, we see this man struggling daily with doing the right thing. Also, it’s a more racially mixed cast than it might have been historically. We’re playing it like it’s modern-day London, in a way.”

It’s incredibly refreshing, certainly, for Jean Valjean’s nemesis, Inspector Javert, to be played by David Oyelowo – and elsewhere Adeel Akhtar is the evil Monsieur Thenardier. “The cities I’ve lived in – Lagos, London, Los Angeles – are places full of different kinds of people, so I want to reflect that in anything I do,” says Oyelowo. “For too long we’ve had a very narrow point of view, but one of the things I’m most proud of in this show is that it’s a reflection of what Europe actually looked like, as opposed to an entirely white world.

“Hugo doesn’t write about race, he writes about humanity, that we all engage in and with. The thing I’m really proud of is that I grew up in the UK watching period dramas, with images that didn’t necessarily reflect who I am, but were resonant to me. Now, my 12-year-old self can have the same experience, but more so. Modern-day drama has to be inclusive and say something about the time we’re in, too.”

An 'urgently relevant' show

Oyelowo points out that Les Miserables is set in a time when the ruling classes were under very real threat from the working classes, where a seismic, revolutionary shift was happening socially, politically and religiously. “I think that’s very pertinent to the way the world is now,” he says. “You can look at any country in the West whose policies favour the rich over the poor and there’s a resonance.”

The show’s fellow executive producer West is similarly keen to tease out the modern relevances of a 19th century story. “I was struck that Valjean goes into public service for the public good,” he says. “The overall premise of Les Miserables is ‘look after the poor’, but today we’ve become very disillusioned with politicians, and that’s a shame because a lot of them are good people. That’s what democracy is based on – if we don’t believe that there are such things as public servants, but that everybody is in it for themselves, then democracy dies.”

West pauses. “Phew, that was a bit strong!”

Perhaps he’s winding back from getting too deep and meaningful about Les Miserables, because for all Shankland talks about making the show “urgently relevant”, he also admits that Davies wanted to place at its core a “beautiful hopeful story about people who are trying to find their way, to be good, to find out what it takes to be a parent.”

'The elements I love the most are the tender bits'

Davies savours the tender moments in the story the most. “I think I probably concentrated first on Jean Valjean and Javert. I got that duality established then started looking at the rest,” he says. “Actually then, the elements that I love the most are the tender bits; Fantine’s story in the early stages will be a revelation. Jean Valjean learning to be a father was something that moved me a lot.”

All of which comes together to form a show in six parts that gives one of the great monuments of world literature exactly the kind of love, care, attention and – crucially – compelling entertainment that it deserves. The songs aren’t missed, because the story is so fresh. And, as West looks across Place du Beguinage at a crowd of perfectly attired extras assembling for the next scene, it certainly feels like he’s part of something special.

“You know, you can easily get boxed into period drama as an English actor, so I avoided it for a long time,” says West, who played an American detective in gritty crime series The Wire and more recently Noah in The Affair. “Now, though, I’m having a blast. I’m luxuriating in the fact that the plots don’t endlessly twist on a phone call, and seeing all the horses, the costumes, the fighting.

“With most modern drama, there’s a tendency to do less, show less, until eventually you’re doing nothing. The sort of naturalism I do in The Affair wouldn’t really work here. You’ve got to be more theatrical, bigger, somehow. Like I say, Les Miserables is epic.”

Les Miserables is broadcast on BBC First (OSN) from January 13 at 9pm. (x)

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #Interviews #articles #dominic west #david oyelowo #Lily Collins

[ploppythespaceship]

Once Upon A Time Watch - Season 7

I DID IT. I FUCKING DID IT. I FINISHED.

Good Things:

Gonna say it right off the bat -- this season isn’t really good? But it’s also not bad. I had a good time watching it and personally, I think it’s stronger than seasons 5 and 6 were.

I love a lot of the new cast:

Andrew J. West as adult Henry

Dania Ramirez as Cinderella/Jacinda

Gabriella Anwar as Tremaine/Bellfrey

Mekia Cox as Tiana/Sabine

Adelaide Kane as Drizella/Ivy

Rose Reynolds as Alice/Tilly

Tiera Skovbye as Robin/Margot

Daniel Francis as Facilier/Samdi

Also, I think it really helps the narrative to make Cinderella a woman of color while her stepfamily is white.

Drizella is the standout new character, and I love the twist that she cast the curse, not her mother. She has a very good and satisfying arc.

For the earlier episodes of the season, I actually like more of the focus on day to day events in Hyperion Heights, rather than grand epic magic. It’s something I missed about season 1 that I’m glad came back.

This season also struck a fairly decent balance between day to day events and grand magical schemes. Characters were woken and regained their memories slowly, until both plots could interweave into one story. It had a few missteps but for the most part worked fairly well.

Alice and Robin are adorable, and I really appreciate the writers letting a lesbian couple finally take the center stage, rather than only being implied (Mulan/Aurora) or only lasting a single episode (Ruby/Dorothy).

I like Tremaine being Rapunzel. That was a nice way to combine the stories. And I much prefer this Rapunzel to the random one-off Rapunzel in season 3.

Tremaine giving her life to save Lucy is a nice touch and a good end to her character. She had a pretty solid arc for the season that I enjoyed.

At first I hated Alice being Nook and Gothel’s daughter, but it’s growing on me. I think because it’s a similar situation to Robin and Zelena, where the woman became pregnant by pretending to be someone else and tricking the man (hey OUAT writers, that’s rape, please remember this), but instead of excusing Zelena they keep Gothel as the villain the whole time, and it’s made very clear that Gothel is not Alice’s mother in any way that matters. It’s also a really nice connection for Nook, since he doesn’t have the relationships with the rest of the cast the same as regular Hook.

I like the finale taking place in the Wish Realm, purely for the sake of all the cameos they can bring in. I wish they’d played that up a bit more, honestly.

Overall, I like Rumple’s ending and his sacrifice. He did the right thing fully believing that he wouldn’t get back to Belle, and that’s ultimately what got him his happy ending with her. Good shit, good shit.

I also like how the entire story turned into Regina’s redemption arc, going full circle from the Evil Queen to the Good Queen. It’s cheesy, but it’s nice.

Bad Things:

It’s really obvious that they only had a handful of the original actors at their disposal. Some characters are unceremoniously written out, while others are awkwardly shoehorned in. They get the hang of it eventually, striking a balance between the old and the new, but for a while the setup is very awkward.

The downtown Seattle setting just isn’t working for me. Storybrooke had a very distinct feel to the entire town, and its locations were almost like characters in and of themselves. Meanwhile Hyperion Heights is just a generic downtown area that doesn’t stand out from the rest of the city at all. Also, people can freely come and go... but only sometimes. It’s very unclear.

Alison Fernandez has little kid charm, for sure, but not enough to really carry the series the way she needs to. I just can’t get attached to her the way I got attached to little kid Henry -- though I think it’s more down to the writing than her performance. They don’t let her carry the story, it’s all wrapped up in the other characters.

While Andrew J. West perfectly captures Henry, he also highlights how dull of a character Henry really is. There’s nothing really distinct about his personality or anything to latch onto for the lead character.

Everything about Rumple this season.

I didn’t care for Rumple and Belle’s final episode with the silly Up montage. And it makes no sense that Rumple spends all those years with no idea how to get rid of the dagger, but then as soon as Belle dies he knows that he needs to find the Guardian. Why didn’t he do that decades ago? That was very unclear.

They also?? Don’t explain what the Guardian is?? Ever?? It’s yet another mysterious title they give to people without ever fucking explaining it. First Anastasia is one. Then for some reason, Alice is, and we’re never given any further info. It’s the multiple Saviors from season 6 all over again.

And then to top it all off, Rumple’s immortality is removed... with the Author’s Pen. You know, something he could have found ages ago. He’s a smart dude, he would have thought of that.

Honestly, Rumple has lost all of his presence and power. It’s like he’s background noise, and it’s a waste of Robert Carlyle.

There's too many competing villains in too short a span of time, and they keep trying to one up each other. Like it’s a twist, there was secretly an even bigger villain behind it all. It’s like matryoshka dolls, but with half-assed villains. And I don't like the chief one being Gothel. There’s nothing wrong with her, but she’s just not nearly as compelling as Tremaine, Drizella, or Facilier.

The repeated Dark Curses start to feel like a cop out, but Drizella managing it without crushing anyone’s heart is the biggest cop out of all.

Robin and Zelena's mother daughter squabbles are really forced and feel like something out of a bad Disney channel original movie.

Why the hell does the curse go back in time as well? It doesn’t add anything but confusion. Now it could have been really cool if they’d shown Henry’s phone conversation only from young Henry’s side in the premiere, and that’s what prompted him to wander the realms. They could have left the mystery of that for the entire season, making for a satisfying reveal. The way it was set up, it just seems odd. It’s like they realized last minute that they had a timeline error and hastily wrote this in to cover for it.

The finale’s big bad is Wish Realm Rumplestiltskin, which is... okay. But feels repetitive since we’ve been so used to Rumple for so long.

I... I don’t understand how Rumple’s sacrifice wound up killing the other Rumple. They didn’t explain that. It’s not like characters split with the Jekyll/Hyde serum, where that’s clearly established as a rule -- these are two different versions of the same character, I... I don’t... yeah, okay.

#personal #ouat rewatch

[thesilverwitch]

THE WICCAN REDE

The Wiccan Rede is a statement that provides the key moral system in your Path. It's important to acknowledge, in any discussion about the Rede that this is simply a guideline. There is a significant amount of variance from one path to the next and even from one individual to another. There is a good deal of room for interpretation and personal alteration. Many Wiccans even choose to claim the shorter rendition which reads simply as such: 

SHORT VERSION

“Eight words the Rede fulfill, ‘And it harm none, do what ye will.”

“An” is an unnecessarily archaic way of saying “as long as” or “if.”  It’s intended to be conditional. If this happens, that happens. It’s a “cause-and-effect” statement.  It implies that “doing no harm” is transitory, because it is a condition that might, or might not, be present.  If you are doing no harm, then you can do what you will.

I would argue that “doing no harm, ever” is simply not possible. Have you ever eaten a steak?  The cow was butchered and you consumed it.  How about a celery stick? That plant was destroyed for your sustenance. It’s not realistic to believe that one can live life and do no harm; just that one should go out of one’s way to minimize harm!  

A Wiccan should do their best not to cause harm; and that means that we should do our best to consider the effects of everything we do; magickally or otherwise. Moral decisions should then be made according to what is going to cause the least harm, including to ourselves.

FULL VERSION (Angelfire Rendition)

“Being known as the counsel of the Wise Ones: Bide the Wiccan laws ye must, in perfect love and perfect trust. Live and let live, fairly take and fairly give. Cast the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out.

To bind the spell every time, let the spell be spake in rhyme. Light of eye and soft of touch, speak ye little, listen much. Honor the Old Ones in deed and name, Let love and light be our guides again. Deosil go by the waxing Moon, sing and dance the Wiccan rune. Widdershins go when the moon doth wane, and the Werewolf howls by the dread Wolfsbane.

When the Lady's Moon is new, kiss thy hand to Her times two. When the Moon rides at Her peak then your heart's desire seek. Heed the Northwind's mighty gale; lock the door and trim the sail.

When the wind comes from the South, love will kiss thee on the mouth. When the wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast. When the West wind blows o'er thee, departed spirits restless be.

Nine woods in the Cauldron go, burn them quick a' burn them slow. Birch in the fire goes, To represent what the Lady knows. Oak in the forest towers with might, In the fire it brings the God's insight. Rowan is a tree of power, Causing life and magick to flower. Willows at the waterside stand, Ready to help us to the Summerland.

Hawthorn is burned to purify, And to draw faerie to your eye. Hazel-the tree of wisdom and learning, Adds its strength to the bright fire burning. White are the flowers of Apple tree, That brings us fruits of fertility. Grapes grow upon the vine, Giving us both joy and wine. Fir does mark the evergreen, To represent immortality seen. Elder is the Lady's tree, Burn it not or cursed you'll be.

Four times the Major Sabbats mark, In the light and in the dark. As the old year starts to wane, The new begins, it's now Samhain. When the time for Imbolg shows, Watch for flowers through the snows. When the wheel begins to turn, Soon the Beltaine fires will burn. As the wheel turns to Lammas night, Power is brought to magick rite. Four times the Minor Sabbats fall, Use the Sun to mark them all.

When the wheel has turned to Yule, Light the log the Horned One rules. In the spring, when night equals day, Time for Ostara to come our way. When the Sun has reached it's height, Time for Oak and Holly to fight. Harvesting comes to one and all, When the Autumn Equinox does fall. Heed the flower, bush, and tree , By the Lady blessed you'll be. Where the rippling waters go, Cast a stone, the truth you'll know. When you have and hold a need, Harken not to others greed. With a fool no season spend, Nor be counted as his friend. Merry Meet and Merry Part, Bright the cheeks and warm the heart.

Mind the Three-fold Law you should, Three times bad and three times good. When misfortune is enow, Wear the star upon your brow. In love you must be ever true, Unless your love is false to you.

Eight words the Rede fulfill, 'And it harm none, do what ye will.'"

BREAKING IT DOWN

Now isn’t that a mouthful! Believe it or not, each line has its own special meaning, which of course is up for personal interpretation from the individual. Here are some examples from Angelfire to get you started in your studies.  

“Bide the Wiccan Laws ye must, In perfect Love and perfect Trust.” Basically, this refers to Perfect Love and Trust in the Divine, not necessarily in a human person. Remember, all Wiccans are human first, and they will have the same faults and shortcomings as everyone else. Honor them for their knowledge and experience, but don't expect them to be saints! “Live and let all else live, Fairly take and fairly give.” Pretty self-explanatory... “Cast the Circle thrice about, To keep unwelcome spirits out.” This refers to casting the circle first with your athame, sword, staff, or whatever tool you use, then casting again around fully with salt & water, then a third casting is done with the Incense. (Not necessarily in that order - it goes by tradition) “To bind the spell every time, Let the spell be spake in rhyme.” This refers to your "younger self" or subconscious mind, which hears and reacts more quickly and more fully to rhymes and chants. It also makes it fun for your inner child, and this will enhance your magickal workings.

“Light of eye and soft of touch, Speak ye little, listen much.” "Light of eye" is an injunction against staring forcefully at another, and comes from the "evil eye”. Be gentle in both your gaze and touch. Avoid violence! The second line has always been sage advice. “Honor the Old Ones in deed and name, Let love and light be our guides again.” Similar to "Honor thy father and mother” but this means anyone elder, not just family. Somehow politeness is being lost in today's society.  “Deosil go by the waxing moon, Sing and dance the Wiccan rune.”

"Deosil" means clock-wise, or sun-wise, and the waxing moon is from New Moon to just before the Full Moon, while the moon is "filling out. This is the time to ask for what you want to have joyful in your life. "Rune" is another name for spell, but specifically a rhymed, chanted, spell working. This is evolved from the use of a single rune (such as today are used for divination) to represent the person's desire.

“Widdershins go when the moon doth wane, and the Werewolf howls by the dread Wolfsbane.” Now "widdershins" is counter clockwise, and the waning moon is after the full moon, when it is "dwindling." This is the time to get rid of unwanted habits, weight, bad feelings, or anything you wish to be rid of. "Baneful" comes from "banish" and that's what it means. “When the Lady's moon is new, Kiss the hand to Her times two.” It was the custom in days gone before to send kisses to the New Moon. It must have been a very wide spread custom as I have seen references to the Inquisition warning people that those who did it would be closely watched for signs of heresy and witchcraft! “When the moon rides at Her peak, Then your heart's desire seek.” This of course is the Full Moon, and the time when the magick of the Moon is at full power. “Heed the North winds' mighty gale, Lock the door and trim the sail.” These next four verses are "wind wisdom" and refer to the times when the wind comes from the four directions, and also refers to the four seasons. The North wind is well known for the winter storms it brings. Lock everything up tight!

“When the wind comes from the South, Love will kiss thee on the mouth.” The warm southern wind brings Springtime, when young fancies turn to romance. “When the Wind blows from the East, Expect the new and set the feast.” The second line refers to the tendency the East wind has to bring changes, and unexpected visitors. “When the West wind blows o'er thee, Departed spirits restless be.” The West is the direction that the souls of those passing on to the Summerland will take. (I suppose they have to work harder when the wind is against them!) “Nine woods in the Cauldron go, Burn them quick a’ burn them slow.”

Nine woods are placed in the Beltain fires and each one is significant. “Birch in the fire goes, To represent what the Lady knows. Oak in the forest towers with might, In the fire it brings the God's insight. Rowan is a tree of power, Causing life and magick to flower. Willows at the waterside stand, Ready to help us to the Summerland. Hawthorn is burned to purify, And to draw faerie to your eye. Hazel-the tree of wisdom and learning, Adds its strength to the bright fire burning. White are the flowers of Apple tree, That brings us fruits of fertility. Grapes grow upon the vine, Giving us both joy and wine. Fir does mark the evergreen, To represent immortality seen. Elder is the Lady's tree, Burn it not or cursed you'll be.” Count them, Elder is the 10th tree, and the Balefire only gets Nine. This is a warning to those who would burn the elder, and refers to the English elder, but I don't burn the American one either. “Four times the Major Sabbats mark, In the light and in the dark.” The eight Sabbats are divided in two: the Major and Minor Sabbats. The Major Sabbats are: Samhain, Imbolc, Beltane, and Lammas. “As the old year starts to wane, The new begins, it's now Samhain.” For many Wiccans, Samhain marks the New Year and is the most important Sabbat. It’s the time to remember the ancestors, and the time to celebrate the harvest and all that has been accomplished over the year.   “When the time for Imbolg shows, Watch for flowers through the snows.” Imbolg, is a preparation for spring. At Imbolg, Wiccans clean and organize their living environments, as well as their minds and hearts, in preparation for the upcoming season of growth. It’s a time to shake off the doldrums of late winter and light the fires of creativity and inspiration. “When the wheel begins to turn, Soon the Beltaine fires will burn.” Beltane is the time of the marriage and union of the Goddess as Mother Earth and the God of the Greenwood. It is an ancient fertility festival marking the beginning of the planting cycle. The festival was to ensure a good growing season and a bountiful harvest. Beltane is light-hearted and joyful. “As the wheel turns to Lammas night, Power is brought to magick rite.” For the ancient Pagans, Lammas was a time of both hope and fear. They held hope for a bountiful harvest and abundant food, but they feared that the harvest wouldn’t be large enough and that the cold months would be filled with struggle and deprivation. At Lammas, modern Wiccans also face their fears, concentrate on developing their own abilities, and take steps to protect themselves and their homes.   

“Four times the Minor Sabbats fall, Use the Sun to mark them all.” Now these Sabbats are called "Minor" simply because they happen at the start of the season, when the sun is just entering the Fixed Astrological signs of the four seasons. All of the Sabbats are considered "solar, meaning that they are calculated by the sun. These Minor Sabbats include Yule, Ostara, Litha, and Mabon.  “When the wheel has turned to Yule, Light the log the Horned One rules.” Yule is the longest night and the shortest day of the year. Some Wiccans consider Yule to be either the year’s beginning or the end. This is the time to celebrate the return of the light. Yule is the solar turning of the tides, and the newborn Sun offers a fresh start and, literally, a new day. It’s a time of renewal and hope. “In the spring, when night equals day, Time for Ostara to come our way.” Winter is now over. Light is increasing. The day and night are equal in length at the equinox. Spring has arrived or is coming soon. Ostara is the time of fertility, birth, and renewal. The ice is thawing, and the growing season for plants and animals begins. Growth is the theme of the day.   

“When the Sun has reached it's height, Time for Oak and Holly to fight.” Litha is the longest day and the shortest night of the year. Light triumphs, but will now begin to fade into darkness as autumn approaches. The crops are planted and growing. The woods and forests have reached their peak fullness. This is the time of abundance for wildlife, including people! The holiday is joyous. “Harvesting comes to one and all, When the Autumn Equinox does fall.” At Mabon, the day and the night are equal in length, in sublime balance. For many locations, Mabon coincides with the final harvest of grain, fruits, and vegetables. Mabon, also called Harvest Home, is the time of thanksgiving. The beauty and bounty of summer gives way to the desolation of winter, and the darkness overtakes the light.   

“Heed the flower, bush, and tree, By the Lady blessed you'll be.” All life is Sacred to the Goddess, and proper respect should be shown for the sacrifice of Her Creatures and Plants so that we may eat and survive. “Where the rippling waters go Cast a stone, the truth you'll know.” This is referring to a water divination, where one tosses a pebble into the surface of still water to watch the ripples and divine the future. “When you have and hold a need, Harken not to others greed.” One should not do magick out of greed, but out of need. So if someone offers you money to do a spell for them, what is your motivation? And what is theirs? Do you want to attract dependent people to you who could possibly put so many demands on your energy that you have no time for yourself? This one is thought provoking, isn't it? “With a fool no season spend, Nor be counted as his friend.” Or in other words, people know you by the company you keep.... “Merry Meet and Merry Part, Bright the cheeks and warm the heart.” Also self explanatory... we're all pretty happy to see one another, and open expressions of affection are encouraged. “Mind The Threefold Law you should, Three times bad and three times good.” The Threefold Law is a religious tenet held by some Wiccans that states that whatever energy a person puts out into the world, be it positive or negative, will be returned to that person three times. “When misfortune is enow, Wear the star upon your brow.” In this form, it means to open your third eye and listen to your higher self/Spirit Guide/Guardian Angel whenever you find yourself in difficulties.  “In love you must be ever true, Unless your love is false to you.” A witch does not give her or his word lightly... and a vow of true love is also not spoken lightly. However, if your lover is untrue to you they have already broken vows with you. “Eight words the Rede fulfill, ‘And it harm none, do what ye will.’” This is the law by which most Wiccans live, with harm to none. 

WHAT’S YOUR RENDITION?

As mentioned before, in any discussion about the Rede, this is simply a starter’s guideline. There is a significant amount of variance from one Path to the next and even from one individual to another. It’s all about your personal beliefs, your key moral system in your Path. There is a good deal of room for interpretation and personal alteration. With that being said, I want to know your personal Rede! Do you use a pre-written traditional Rede or your own Rede? Leave a comment or reblog with your own version (if you’d like to share) and (if you have the time) what it means to you! 

#wiccan rede #rede #pagan #wicca #wiccan #witchcraft #witches of Tumblr #witch #magick #spell #easy spell #the craft #paganism #amethyst #moon #full moon #eclipse #nature #neo wiccan #neo pagan #OTP #gif #fashion #art #DIY #food #landscape #vintage #design #quote

[nova-manning-blog]

Nova’s spaces within Carreau’s mansion are as tech filled and sleek as every other room, but during her residence there she had taken steps to add more of an elegant and chic touch to her rooms, with lighter colours and more whimsical elements.

The Bedroom: an overview

Her bedroom separates into four main sections. When you walk in you’re greeting by the tall windows covering the expanse of one wall, and in front of them Nova’s vanity. To the right a door to her walk-in closet and the lounging area, and to the left her bed. The whole room smells of lavender, orange, and chamomile- a sweet and relaxing scent- thanks to essential oil diffusers and her fabric conditioner. It’s a bright and open plan space, with off white natura oak hardwood floors, wallpapered in a soft purple grey with silver floral patterning. There are of course blackout blinds, but Nova only brings those down when she is going to bed, otherwise there are sheer purple curtains framing the windows on either side of the wall. She has a collection of artworks arranged in a cluster on one wall, ranging from minimalist modern work to older styles- all original works carefully curated by herself.

Vanity-

The placement of her vanity was paramount in the arrangement of her room, as of course setting it in-front of the windows provides excellent natural lighting by which she can do her hair and makeup. The unit is a delicate jade colour with large, fold out mirrors, and three draws going down either side to house her makeup and brushes. The companion chair matches the jade colour for the most part with a pink cushion on the seat, a high back, and ornate legs. Her prettiest and most used makeup items make their way onto the desk; a Natasha Denona sunset eyeshadow palette, some Pat Mcgrath and Tom Ford lipsticks, an Anastasia Beverly Hills highlighter kit, and a Kat Von D contour kit to name a few. Lining the edges of the mirror- which are never folded in- are her favourite photographs from the last few years, including a few with her father, old friends, and stunning views she captured. On the left of the desk is her most worn jewelry arranged on a stand in the shape of a hand.

Bed-

Nova’s bed is an ornately carved Bonaparte French Bed in an azure blue with silver detailing. Her sheets are silk and a deep, smoky grey in colour. She has a blanket layer underneath the duvet for extra warmth and comfort. The bedside table matches the bedframe in colour and detailing. Resting on it Is a black eye mask with white eyelashes embroidered onto it, a spray bottle of lavender water which she spritzes onto her pillow before sleep, and an old fashioned corded phone designed to look like a set of pouty red lips. (This phone isn’t in use anymore but is her homage to the excitable and overt trends of the nineties.) Nova has an eclectic set of throw cushions, but she of course has her favourites- one baby pink and fluffy, one covered in teal sequins, and one with dainty floral embroidery and a rude message sewed in a delicate script.

Walk-in Wardrobe-

Her pride and joy, of course. On the back of one of the doors is a tall mirror- so she can evaluate her outfit- and on the back of the other hangs a black silk robe. In the middle of the room is a chaise lounge upholstered in red, in case she becomes overwhelmed by her own wonderful fashion sense. Lining the left of the room are drawers containing lesser worn jewellery items, underwear (organized first by colour and then by how sexy it is), scarves, hats, bags, and a shoe rack that rotates at the push of a button. The right is for all her clothes, closest to the door is shelving for t-shirts and shorts, underneath that is a small space for hanging shirts and blouses, so they won’t crinkle. Beyond that everything else is hung up, and this section of the wardrobe also rotates allowing Nova to go between her dresses, trousers, skirts, and jeans.

Lounging Area-

What room is complete without a specified area in which to lounge, after all? Lounging on the bed is for barbarians. In this part of the room there is a rug, olive in colour and shaped like a circle to encompass the whole lounge zone. There’s a tall backed armchair covered in luxe purple velvet, two scratch free brown leather sofas, and a glass coffee table decorated with Nova’s trinkets- woodwick candles, discarded earrings, pretty crystals, and a stack of magazines. If you are lucky enough to be her guest in the mansion this is most likely where you would find yourself socializing, as she feels the lightness of her room in comparison with the rest of the place can put people at ease. By the coffee table there is also a minifridge kept stocked with wine, bottled water, and snacks.

The Library/Office: an overview

Since this space is used by both Carreau and Nova it’s more minimalist than her own room, with a sleek and modern design. Frankly, if Nova had her way she’d add a big bay window and a colour or two that wasn’t black.

Desk-

This desk gets used more than you might think for a woman whose main involvement in her fathers’ business was face to face dealings with clients and overview of the night to night goings on at the club. No, this is a desk with rather more sinister intent. See if you’re not careful lies and plans can get away from you. For every character Nova comes across is West Hollow there is a folder in this desk, and after every interaction she notes down anything of importance that happened, and her future plans for this person. Since in Nova’s opinion malicious and evil acts aught to be well organized this is the place dedicated to that organization and it is treated as such, all stationary and equipment neatly lined up, incriminating documents safely locked away in drawers. There’s very little of her personality showing on the surface of this corner, it is tidy and without extravagant decoration.

Reading Nook-

In compassion to her work area Nova’s reading nook is a warm and cosy space. It’s set in a corner of the library where some of her favourite literature resides so as to be able to access them with ease. The centrepiece is a plush leather armchair, worn and scratched up from the years she has curled up in it, with a tartan blanket draped over the back. Besides the chair is a small end table, stacked high with her in progress reads alongside a small notepad and pen so she can jot down any books that she absolutely Should Not read again, due to how terrible they were. It’s also not rare to see an empty mug left somewhere in the area too, as she likes to drink hot chocolate while reading and doesn’t always remember to take it through to the kitchen when she leaves.

#westhollowtask #uuuhhhhh #rip my sponsored posts gonna be full of luxury home-ware items lmao #inspo